Shampooer. [Trembles as he walks away and looks about him.] Here is a house where somebody has left the side-door open. I will go in. [He enters and perceives Vasantasena.] Madam, I throw myself upon your protection.

Vasantasena. He who throws himself upon my protection shall be safe. Close the door, girl. [The maid does so.]

Vasantasena. What do you fear?

Shampooer. A creditor, madam.

Vasantasena. You may open the door now, girl.

Shampooer. [To himself.] Ah! Her reasons for not fearing a creditor are in proportion to her innocence. The proverb is right:

The man who knows his strength and bears a load Proportioned to that strength, not more nor less, Is safe from stumbling and from sore distress, Although he wander on a dreary road. 14

That means me.

Mathura. [Wiping his eyes. To the gambler.] Pay, pay!

Gambler. While we were quarreling with Darduraka, sir, the man escaped.

Mathura. I broke that shampooer's nose for him with my fist Come on! Let's trace him by the blood. [They do so.]

Gambler. He went into Vasantasena's house, sir.

Mathura. Then that is the end of the gold-pieces.

Gambler. Let's go to court and lodge a complaint.

P. 67.1]

Mathura. The swindler would leave the house and escape. No, we must besiege him and so capture him.

* * * * *

[Vasantasena gives Madanika a sign.]

Madanika. Whence are you, sir? or who are you, sir? or whose son are you, sir? or what is your business, sir? or what are you afraid of?

Shampooer. Listen, madam. My birthplace is Pataliputra, madam. I am the son of a householder. I practise the trade of a shampooer.

Vasantasena. It is a very dainty art, sir, which you have mastered.

Shampooer. Madam, as an art I mastered it. It has now become a mere trade.

Madanika. Your answers are most disconsolate, sir. Pray continue.

Shampooer. Yes, madam. When I was at home, I used to hear travelers tell tales, and I wanted to see new countries, and so I came here. And when I had come here to Ujjayini, I became the servant of a noble gentleman. Such a handsome, courteous gentleman! When he gave money away, he did not boast; when he was injured, he forgot it. To cut a long story short: he was so courteous that he regarded his own person as the possession of others, and had compassion on all who sought his protection.

Madanika. Who may it be that adorns Ujjayini with the virtues which he has stolen from the object of my mistress' desires?

Vasantasena. Good, girl, good! I had the same thought in mind.

Madanika. But to continue, sir—

Shampooer. Madam, he was so compassionate and so generous that now—

Vasantasena. His riches have vanished?

Shampooer. I didn't say it. How did you guess it, madam?

Vasantasena. What was there to guess? Virtue and money seldom keep company. In the pools from which men cannot drink there is so much the more water.

Madanika. But sir, what is his name?

[37.23. S.

Shampooer. Madam, who does not know the name of this moon of the whole world? He lives in the merchants' quarter. He whose name is worthy of all honor is named Charudatta.

Vasantasena. [Joyfully rising from her seat.] Sir, this house is your own. Give him a seat, girl, and take this fan. The gentleman is weary. [Madanika does as she is bid.]

Shampooer. [Aside.] What! so much honor because I mentioned Charudatta's name? Heaven bless you, Charudatta! You are the only man in the world who really lives. All others merely breathe. [He falls at Vasantasena's feet.] Enough, madam, enough. Pray be seated, madam.

Vasantasena. [Seating herself.] Where is he who is so richly your creditor, sir?

Shamp.

The good man's wealth consists in kindly deeds; All other wealth is vain and quickly flies. The man who honors not his neighbor's needs, Does that man know what honor signifies? 15

Vasantasena. But to continue—

Shampooer. So I became a servant in his employ. And when his wealth was reduced to his virtue, I began to live by gambling. But fate was cruel, and I lost ten gold-pieces.

Mathura. I am ruined! I am robbed!

Shampooer. There are the gambling-master and the gambler, looking for me. You have heard my story, madam. The rest is your affair.

Vasantasena. Madanika, the birds fly everywhither when the tree is shaken in which they have their nests. Go, girl, and give the gambling-master and the gambler this bracelet. And tell them that this gentleman sends it. [She removes a bracelet from her arm, and gives it to Madanika.]

Madanika. [Receiving the bracelet.] Yes, mistress. [She goes out.]

P. 71.2]

Mathura. I am ruined! I am robbed!

Madanika. Inasmuch as these two are looking up to heaven, and sighing, and chattering, and fastening their eyes on the door, I conclude that they must be the gambling-master and the gambler. [Approaching.] I salute you, sir.

Mathura. May happiness be yours.

Madanika. Sir, which of you is the gambling-master?

Math.

O maiden, fair but something less than shy, With red lip wounded in love's ardent play, On whom is bent that sweet, coquettish eye? For whom that lisp that steals the heart away? 16

I haven't got any money. You'll have to look somewhere else.

Madanika. You are certainly no gambler, if you talk that way. Is there any one who owes you money?

Mathura. There is. He owes ten gold-pieces. What of him?

Madanika. In his behalf my mistress sends you this bracelet. No, no! He sends it himself.

Mathura. [Seizing it joyfully.] Well, well, you may tell the noble youth that his account is squared. Let him come and seek delight again in gambling. [Exeunt Mathura and the gambler.

* * * * *

Madanika. [Returning to Vasantasena.] Mistress, the gambling-master and the gambler have gone away well-pleased.

Vasantasena. Go, sir, and comfort your kinsfolk.

Shampooer. Ah, madam, if it may be, these hands would gladly practise their art in your service.

Vasantasena. But sir, he for whose sake you mastered the art, who first received your service, he should have your service still.

Shampooer. [Aside.] A very pretty way to decline my services. How shall I repay her kindness? [Aloud.] Madam, thus dishonored as a gambler, I shall become a Buddhist monk. And so, madam, treasure these words in your memory: "He was a shampooer, a gambler, a Buddhist monk."

[40.1. S.

Vasantasena. Sir, you must not act too precipitately.

Shampooer. Madam, my mind is made up. [He walks about.]

I gambled, and in gambling I did fall, Till every one beheld me with dismay. Now I shall show my honest face to all, And walk abroad upon the king's highway. 17

[Tumultuous cries behind the scenes.]

Shampooer. [Listening.] What is this? What is this? [Addressing some one behind the scenes.] What did you say? "Post-breaker, Vasantasena's rogue elephant, is at liberty!" Hurrah! I must go and see the lady's best elephant. No, no! What have I to do with these things? I must hold to my resolution. [Exit.

[Then enter hastily Karnapuraka, highly delighted, wearing a gorgeous mantle.]

Karnapuraka. Where is she? Where is my mistress?

Madanika. Insolent! What can it be that so excites you? You do not see your mistress before your very eyes.

Karnapuraka. [Perceiving Vasantasena.] Mistress, my service to you.

Vasantasena. Karnapuraka, your face is beaming. What is it?

Karnapuraka. [Proudly.] Oh, mistress! You missed it! You didn't see Karnapuraka's heroism to-day!

Vasantasena. What, Karnapuraka, what?

Karnapuraka. Listen. Post-breaker, my mistress' rogue elephant, broke the stake he was tied to, killed his keeper, and ran into the street, making a terrible commotion. You should have heard the people shriek,

Take care of the babies, as quick as you can. And climb up a roof or a tree! The elephant rogue wants the blood of a man. Escape! Run away! Can't you see? 18

P. 74.14]

And:

How they lose their ankle-rings! Girdles, set with gems and things, Break away from fastenings!

As they stumble, trip, and blunder, See the bracelets snap asunder, Each a tangled, pearly wonder! 19

And that rogue of an elephant dives with his trunk and his feet and his tusks into the city of Ujjayini, as if it were a lotus-pond in full flower. At last he comes upon a Buddhist monk.[43] And while the man's staff and his water-jar and his begging-bowl fly every which way, he drizzles water over him and gets him between his tusks. The people see him and begin to shriek again, crying "Oh, oh, the monk is killed!"

Vasantasena. [Anxiously.] Oh, what carelessness, what carelessness!

Karnapuraka. Don't be frightened. Just listen, mistress. Then, with a big piece of the broken chain dangling about him, he picked him up, picked up the monk between his tusks, and just then Karnapuraka saw him, I saw him, no, no! the slave who grows fat on my mistress' rice-cakes saw him, stumbled with his left foot over a gambler's score, grabbed up an iron pole out of a shop, and challenged the mad elephant—

Vasantasena. Go on! Go on!

Karnap.

I hit him—in a fit of passion, too— He really looked like some great mountain peak. And from between those tusks of his I drew The sacred hermit meek. 20

Vasantasena. Splendid, splendid! But go on!

Karnapuraka. Then, mistress, all Ujjayini tipped over to one side, like a ship loaded unevenly, and you could hear nothing but "Hurrah, hurrah for Karnapuraka!" Then, mistress, a man touched the places where he ought to have ornaments, and, finding that he hadn't any, looked up, heaved a long sigh, and threw this mantle over me.

[41.19. S.

Vasantasena. Find out, Karnapuraka, whether the mantle is perfumed with jasmine or not.

Karnapuraka. Mistress, the elephant perfume is so strong that I can't tell for sure.

Vasantasena. Then look at the name.

Karnapuraka. Here is the name. You may read it, mistress. [He hands her the mantle.]

Vasantasena. [Reads.] Charudatta. [She seizes the mantle eagerly and wraps it about her.]

Madanika. The mantle is very becoming to her, Karnapuraka.

Karnapuraka. Oh, yes, the mantle is becoming enough.

Vasantasena. Here is your reward, Karnapuraka. [She gives him a gem.]

Karnapuraka. [Taking it and bowing low.] Now the mantle is most wonderfully becoming.

Vasantasena. Karnapuraka, where is Charudatta now?

Karnapuraka. He started to go home along this very street.

Vasantasena. Come, girl! Let us go to the upper balcony and see Charudatta. [Exeunt omnes.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 39: Perhaps masseur would be more accurate.]

[Footnote 40: That of Mathura, the keeper of the gambling house.]

[Footnote 41: A humorously exaggerated reference to Indian ascetic practices.]

[Footnote 42: See note on page 33.]

[Footnote 43: The shampooer, whose transformation is astonishingly sudden.]



ACT THE THIRD

THE HOLE IN THE WALL

[Enter Charudatta's servant, Vardhamanaka.]

Vardh.

A master, kindly and benevolent, His servants love, however poor he be. The purse-proud, with a will on harshness bent, Pays service in the coin of cruelty. 1

And again:

A bullock greedy for a feast of corn You never can prevent; A wife who wants her lord to wear a horn You never can prevent; A man who loves to gamble night and morn You never can prevent; And blemishes[44] that with a man are born You never can prevent. 2

It is some time since Charudatta went to the concert. It is past midnight, and still he does not come. I think I will go into the outer hall and take a nap. [He does so.]

* * * * *

[Enter Charudatta and Maitreya.]

Charudatta. How beautifully Rebhila sang! The lute is indeed a pearl, a pearl not of the ocean.

Gently the anxious lover's heart befriending, Consoling when true lovers may not meet, To love-lorn souls the dearest comforts sending, It adds to sweetest love its more of sweet. 3

Maitreya. Well then, let's go into the house.

Charudatta. But how wonderfully Master Rebhila sang!

[44.1. S

Maitreya. There are just two things that always make me laugh. One is a woman talking Sanskrit, and the other is a man who tries to sing soft and low. Now when a woman talks Sanskrit, she is like a heifer with a new rope through her nose; all you hear is "soo, soo, soo." And when a man tries to sing soft and low, he reminds me of an old priest muttering texts, while the flowers in his chaplet dry up. No, I don't like it!

Charudatta. My friend, Master Rebhila sang most wonderfully this evening. And still you are not satisfied.

The notes of love, peace, sweetness, could I trace, The note that thrills, the note of passion too, The note of woman's loveliness and grace— Ah, my poor words add nothing, nothing new! But as the notes in sweetest cadence rang, I thought it was my hidden love who sang. 4

The melody of song, the stricken strings In undertone that half-unconscious clings, More clearly sounding when the passions rise, But ever sweeter as the music dies. Words that strong passion fain would say again, Yet checks their second utterance—in vain; For music sweet as this lives on, until I walk as hearing sweetest music still. 5

Maitreya. But see, my friend! The very dogs are sound asleep in the shops that look out on the market. Let us go home. [He looks before him.] Look, look! The blessed moon seems to give place to darkness, as she descends from her palace in heaven.

Charudatta. True.

The moon gives place to darkness as she dips Behind the western mountain; and the tips Of her uplifted horns alone appear, Like two sharp-pointed tusks uplifted clear, Where bathes an elephant in waters cool, Who shows naught else above the jungle pool. 6

P. 89.1]

Maitreya. Well, here is our house. Vardhamanaka, Vardhamanaka, open the door!

Vardhamanaka. I hear Maitreya's voice. Charudatta has returned. I must open the door for him. [He does so.] Master, I salute you. Maitreya, I salute you too. The couch is ready. Pray be seated. [Charudatta and Maitreya enter and seat themselves.]

Maitreya. Vardhamanaka, call Radanika to wash our feet.

Charudatta. [Compassionately.] She sleeps. Do not wake her.

Vardhamanaka. I will bring the water, Maitreya, and you may wash Charudatta's feet.

Maitreya. [Angrily.] Look, man. He acts like the son of a slave that he is, for he is bringing water. But he makes me wash your feet, and I am a Brahman.

Charudatta. Good Maitreya, do you bring the water, and Vardhamanaka shall wash my feet.

Vardhamanaka. Yes, Maitreya. Do you bring the water. [Maitreya does so. Vardhamanaka washes Charudatta's feet, then moves away.]

Charudatta. Let water be brought for the Brahman's feet.

Maitreya. What good does water do my feet? I shall have to roll in the dirt again, like a beaten ass.

Vardhamanaka. Maitreya, you are a Brahman.

Maitreya. Yes, like a slow-worm among all the other snakes, so am I a Brahman among all the other Brahmans.

Vardhamanaka. Maitreya, I will wash your feet after all. [He does so.] Maitreya, this golden casket I was to keep by day, you by night. Take it. [He gives it to Maitreya, then exit.

Maitreya. [Receiving the casket.] The thing is here still. Isn't there a single thief in Ujjayini to steal the wretch that robs me of my sleep? Listen. I am going to take it into the inner court.

[46.1. S.

Charud.

Such lax attention we can ill afford. If we are trusted by a courtezan, Then, Brahman, prove yourself an honest man, And guard it safely, till it be restored. 7

[He nods, repeating the stanza "The melody of song, the stricken strings:" page 44.]

Maitreya. Are you going to sleep?

Charudatta. Yes, so it seems.

For conquering sleep, descending on mine eyes, First smites the brow with unresisted blow; Unseen, elusive, like old age, she tries To gather strength by weakening her foe. 8

Maitreya. Then let's go to sleep. [He does so.]

* * * * *

[Enter Sharvilaka.[45]]

Sharv.

I made an entrance for my body's round By force of art and arms, a path to deeds! I skinned my sides by crawling on the ground, Like a snake that sloughs the skin no longer sound: And now I go where my profession leads. 9

[He gazes at the sky. Joyfully.] See! The blessed moon is setting. For well I know,

My trade would fain from watchmen's eyes be shrouded; Valiant, I force the dwelling of another. But see, the stars in deepest dark are clouded, And the night shields me like a careful mother. 10

I made a breach in the orchard wall and entered. And now I must force my way into the inner court as well.

Yes, let men call it vulgar, if they will, The trade that thrives while sleeps the sleepyhead; Yes, knavery, not bravery, call it still, To overreach confiding folk a-bed.

P. 86.9]

Far better blame and hissing, fairly won. Than the pay of genuflecting underlings; This antique path was trod by Drona's son, Who slew the sleeping, unsuspecting kings. 11

But where shall I make the breach?

Where is the spot which falling drops decayed? For each betraying sound is deadened there. No yawning breach should in the walls be made, So treatises on robbery declare. Where does the palace crumble? Where the place That niter-eaten bricks false soundness wear? Where shall I 'scape the sight of woman's face? Fulfilment of my wishes waits me there. 12

[He feels the wall.] Here is a spot weakened by constant sun and sprinkling and eaten by saltpeter rot. And here is a pile of dirt thrown up by a mouse. Now heaven be praised! My venture prospers. This is the first sign of success for Skanda's[46] sons. Now first of all, how shall I make the breach? The blessed Bearer of the Golden Lance[47] has prescribed four varieties of breach, thus: if the bricks are baked, pull them out; if they are unbaked, cut them; if they are made of earth, wet them; if they are made of wood, split them. Here we have baked bricks; ergo, pull out the bricks.

Now what shall be the shape I give the breach? A "lotus," "cistern," "crescent moon," or "sun"? "Oblong," or "cross," or "bulging pot"? for each The treatises permit. Which one? which one? And where shall I display my sovereign skill, That in the morning men may wonder still? 13

In this wall of baked bricks, the "bulging pot" would be effective. I will make that.

[47.16. S.

At other walls that I have pierced by night, And at my less successful ventures too, The crowd of neighbors gazed by morning light, Assigning praise or blame, as was my due. 14

Praise to the boon-conferring god, to Skanda of immortal youth! Praise to him, the Bearer of the Golden Lance, the Brahman's god, the pious! Praise to him, the Child of the Sun! Praise to him, the teacher of magic, whose first pupil I am! For he found pleasure in me and gave me magic ointment,

With which so I anointed be, No watchman's eye my form shall see; And edged sword that falls on me From cruel wounds shall leave me free. 15

[He anoints himself.] Alas, I have forgotten my measuring line. [Reflecting.] Aha! This sacred cord[48] shall be my measuring line. Yes, the sacred cord is a great blessing to a Brahman, especially to one like me. For, you see,

With this he measures, ere he pierce a wall, And picks the lock, when jewels are at stake. It serves as key to bolted door and hall, As tourniquet for bite of worm and snake. 16

The measuring is done. I begin my task. [He does so, then takes a look.] My breach lacks but a single brick. Alas, I am bitten by a snake. [He binds his finger with the sacred cord, and manifests the workings of poison.] I have applied the remedy, and now I am restored. [He continues his work, then gazes.] Ah, there burns a candle. See!

Though jealous darkness hems it round, The golden-yellow candle from its place Shines through the breach upon the ground, Like a streak of gold upon the touchstone's face. 17

P. 87.9]

[He returns to his work.] The breach is finished. Good! I enter. But no, I will not enter yet. I will shove a dummy in. [He does so.] Ah, no one is there. Praise be to Skanda! [He enters and looks about.] See! Two men asleep. Come, for my own protection I will open the door. But the house is old and the door squeaks. I must look for water. Now where might water be? [He looks about, finds water, and sprinkles the door. Anxiously.] I hope it will not fall upon the floor and make a noise. Come, this is the way. [He puts his back against the door and opens it cautiously.] Good! So much for that. Now I must discover whether these two are feigning sleep, or whether they are asleep in the fullest meaning of the term. [He tries to terrify them, and notes the effect.] Yes, they must be asleep in the fullest meaning of the term. For see!

Their breath first calmly rises, ere it sink; Its regularity all fear defies. Unmoving in their socket-holes, the eyes Are tightly closed, and never seem to wink. The limbs relaxed, at ease the bodies lie, I see their feet beyond the bedstead peep, The lighted candle vexes not the eye; It would, if they were only feigning sleep. 18

[He looks about him.] What! a drum? And here is a flute. And here, a snare-drum. And here, a lute. And reed-pipes. And yonder, manuscripts. Is this the house of a dancing-master? But no! When I entered, I was convinced that this was a palatial residence. Now then, is this man poor in the fullest meaning of the term, or, from fear of the king or of thieves, does he keep his property buried? Well, my own property is buried, too. But I will scatter the seeds that betray subterranean gold. [He does so.] The scattered seeds nowhere swell up. Ah, he is poor in the fullest meaning of the term. Good! I go.

Maitreya. [Talking in his sleep.] Look, man. I see something like a hole in the wall. I see something like a thief. You had better take this golden casket.

[49.7. S

Sharvilaka. I wonder if the man has discovered that I have entered, and is showing off his poverty in order to make fun of me. Shall I kill him, or is the poor devil talking in his sleep? [He takes a look.] But see! This thing wrapped in a ragged bath-clout, now that I inspect it by the light of my candle, is in truth a jewel-casket Suppose I take it. But no! It is hardly proper to rob a man of good birth, who is as poor as I am. I go.

Maitreya. My friend, by the wishes of cows and Brahmans[49] I conjure you to take this golden casket.

Sharvilaka. One may not disregard the sacred wish of a cow and the wish of a Brahman. I will take it. But look! There burns the candle. I keep about me a moth for the express purpose of extinguishing candles. I will let him enter the flame. This is his place and hour. May this moth which I here release, depart to flutter above the flame in varying circles. The breeze from the insect's wings has translated the flame into accursed darkness. Or shall I not rather curse the darkness brought by me upon my Brahmanic family? For my father was a man who knew the four Vedas, who would not accept a gift; and I, Sharvilaka, his son, and a Brahman, I am committing a crime for the sake of that courtezan girl Madanika. Now I will grant the Brahman's wish. [He reaches out for the casket.]

Maitreya. How cold your fingers are, man!

Sharvilaka. What carelessness! My fingers are cold from touching water. Well, I will put my hand in my armpit [He warms his left hand and takes the casket.]

Maitreya. Have you got it?

Sharvilaka. I could not refuse a Brahman's request. I have it.

P. 80.9]

Maitreya. Now I shall sleep as peacefully as a merchant who has sold his wares.

Sharvilaka. O great Brahman, sleep a hundred years! Alas that a Brahman family should thus be plunged in darkness for the sake of Madanika, a courtezan! Or better, I myself am thus plunged in darkness.

A curse on poverty, I say! 'T is stranger to the manly will; This act that shuns the light of day I curse indeed, but do it still. 19

Well then, I must go to Vasantasena's house to buy Madanika's freedom. [He walks about and looks around him.] Ah, I think I hear footsteps. I hope they are not those of policemen. Never mind. I will pretend to be a pillar, and wait. But after all, do policemen exist for me, for Sharvilaka? Why, I am

A cat for crawling, and a deer for flight, A hawk for rending, and a dog for sight To judge the strength of men that wake or sleep, A snake, when 't is advisable to creep, Illusion's self, to seem a saint or rogue, Goddess of Speech in understanding brogue; A light in blackest night, in holes a lizard I can be, A horse on terra firma, and a ship upon the sea. 20

And again:

Quick as a snake, and steady as a hill; In flight the prince of birds can show no greater skill; In searching on the ground I am as keen as any hare, In strength I am a lion, and a wolf to rend and tear. 21

Radanika. [Entering.] Dear me! Vardhamanaka went to sleep in the outer court, and now he is not there. Well, I will call Maitreya. [She walks about.]

[51.1. S.

Sharvilaka. [Prepares to strike down Radanika, but first takes a look.] What! a woman? Good! I go. [Exit.

* * * * *

Radanika. [Recoiling in terror.] Oh, oh, a thief has cut a hole in the wall of our house and is escaping, I must go and wake Maitreya. [She approaches Maitreya.] Oh, Maitreya, get up, get up! A thief has cut a hole in the wall of our house and has escaped.

Maitreya. [Rising.] What do you mean, wench? "A hole in the wall has cut a thief and has escaped"?

Radanika. Poor fool! Stop your joking. Don't you see it?

Maitreya. What do you mean, wench? "It looks as if a second door had been thrown open"? Get up, friend Charudatta, get up! A thief has made a hole in the wall of our house and has escaped.

Charudatta. Yes, yes! A truce to your jests!

Maitreya. But it isn't a jest. Look!

Charudatta. Where?

Maitreya. Why, here.

Charudatta. [Gazing.] What a very remarkable hole!

The bricks are drawn away below, above; The top is narrow, but the center wide; As if the great house-heart had burst with pride, Fearing lest the unworthy share its love. 22

To think that science should be expended on a task like this!

Maitreya. My friend, this hole must have been made by one of two men; either by a stranger, or else for practice by a student of the science of robbery. For what man here in Ujjayini does not know how much wealth there is in our house?

Charud.

Stranger he must have been who made the breach, His customed harvest in my house to reap; He has not learned that vanished riches teach A calm, untroubled sleep.

He saw the sometime greatness of my home And forced an entrance; for his heart did leap With short-lived hope; now he must elsewhere roam, And over broken hopes must sorely weep. 23

Just think of the poor fellow telling his friends: "I entered the house of a merchant's son, and found—nothing."

P. 92.4]

Maitreya. Do you mean to say that you pity the rascally robber? Thinks he—"Here's a great house. Here's the place to carry off a jewel-casket or a gold-casket." [He remembers the casket. Despondently. Aside.] Where is that golden casket? [He remembers the events of the night. Aloud.] Look, man! You are always saying "Maitreya is a fool, Maitreya is no scholar." But I certainly acted wisely in handing over that golden casket to you. If I hadn't, the son of a slave would have carried it off.

Charudatta. A truce to your jests!

Maitreya. Just because I'm a fool, do you suppose I don't even know the place and time for a jest?

Charudatta. But when did this happen?

Maitreya. Why, when I told you that your fingers were cold.

Charudatta. It might have been. [He searches about. Joyfully.] My friend, I have something pleasant to tell you.

Maitreya. What? Wasn't it stolen?

Charudatta. Yes.

Maitreya. What is the pleasant news, then?

Charudatta. The fact that he did not go away disappointed.

Maitreya. But it was only entrusted to our care.

Charudatta. What! entrusted to our care? [He swoons.]

Maitreya. Come to yourself, man. Is the fact that a thief stole what was entrusted to you, any reason why you should swoon?

53.5. S.]

Charudatta. [Coming to himself.] Ah, my friend,

Who will believe the truth? Suspicion now is sure. This world will show no ruth To the inglorious poor. 24

Alas! If envious fate before Has wooed my wealth alone. Why should she seek my store Of virtue as her own? 25

Maitreya. I intend to deny the whole thing. Who gave anybody anything? who received anything from anybody? who was a witness?

Charudatta. And shall I tell a falsehood now?

No! I will beg until I earn The wherewithal my debt to pay. Ignoble falsehood I will spurn. That steals the character away. 26

Radanika. I will go and tell his good wife. [She goes out, returning with Charudatta's wife.]

Wife. [Anxiously.] Oh! Is it true that my lord is uninjured, and Maitreya too?

Radanika. It is true, mistress. But the gems which belong to the courtezan have been stolen. [Charudatta's wife swoons.] O my good mistress! Come to yourself!

Wife. [Recovering.] Girl, how can you say that my lord is uninjured? Better that he were injured in body than in character. For now the people of Ujjayini will say that my lord committed this crime because of his poverty. [She looks up and sighs.] Ah, mighty Fate! The destinies of the poor, uncertain as the water-drops which fall upon a lotus-leaf, seem to thee but playthings. There remains to me this one necklace, which I brought with me from my mother's house. But my lord would be too proud to accept it. Girl, call Maitreya hither.

P. 95.7]

Radanika. Yes, mistress. [She approaches Maitreya.] Maitreya, my lady summons you.

Maitreya. Where is she?

Radanika. Here. Come!

Maitreya. [Approaching.] Heaven bless you!

Wife. I salute you, sir. Sir, will you look straight in front of you?

Maitreya. Madam, here stands a man who looks straight in front of him.

Wife. Sir, you must accept this.

Maitreya. Why?

Wife. I have observed the Ceremony of the Gems. And on this occasion one must make as great a present as one may to a Brahman. This I have not done, therefore pray accept this necklace.

Maitreya. [Receiving the necklace.] Heaven bless you! I will go and tell my friend.

Wife. You must not do it in such a way as to make me blush, Maitreya. [Exit.

Maitreya. [In astonishment.] What generosity!

* * * * *

Charudatta. How Maitreya lingers! I trust his grief is not leading him to do what he ought not. Maitreya, Maitreya!

Maitreya. [Approaching.] Here I am. Take that. [He displays the necklace.]

Charudatta. What is this?

Maitreya. Why, that is the reward you get for marrying such a wife.

Charudatta. What! my wife takes pity on me? Alas, now am I poor indeed!

When fate so robs him of his all, That on her pity he must call, The man to woman's state doth fall, The woman is the man. 27

But no, I am not poor. For I have a wife

Whose love outlasts my wealthy day; In thee a friend through good and ill; And truth that naught could take away: Ah! this the poor man lacketh still. 28

[55.9. S.

Maitreya, take the necklace and go to Vasantasena. Tell her in my name that we have gambled away the golden casket, forgetting that it was not our own, that we trust she will accept this necklace in its place.

Maitreya. But you must not give away this necklace, the pride of the four seas, for that cheap thing that was stolen before we had a bite or a drink out of it.

Charudatta. Not so, my friend.

She showed her trust in leaving us her treasure; The price of confidence has no less measure. 29

Friend, I conjure you by this gesture, not to return until you have delivered it into her hands. Vardhamanaka, do you speedily

Fill up the opening with the selfsame bricks; Thus will I thwart the process of the law, For the blemish of so great a scandal sticks. 30

And, friend Maitreya, you must show your pride by not speaking too despondently.

Maitreya. How can a poor man help speaking despondently?

Charudatta. Poor I am not, my friend. For I have a wife

Whose love outlasts my wealthy day; In thee a friend through good and ill; And truth that naught could take away: Ah, this the poor man lacketh still. (28)

Go then, and after performing rites of purification, I will offer my morning prayer. [Exeunt omnes.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 44: This refers to Charudatta's generosity, which continues after his wealth has vanished.]

[Footnote 45: The following scene satirises the Hindu love of system and classification.]

[Footnote 46: The patron saint of thieves.]

[Footnote 47: An epithet of Skanda.]

[Footnote 48: The sacrificial cord, which passes over the left shoulder and under the right arm, is worn constantly by members of the three upper castes.]

[Footnote 49: Sacred creatures.]



ACT THE FOURTH

MADANIKA AND SHARVILAKA

[Enter a maid.]

Maid.

I am entrusted with a message for my mistress by her mother. Here is my mistress. She is gazing at a picture and is talking with Madanika. I will go to her. [She walks about. Then enter Vasantasena as described, and Madanika.]

Vasantasena. Madanika girl, is this portrait really like Charudatta?

Madanika. Very like.

Vasantasena. How do you know?

Madanika. Because my mistress' eyes are fastened so lovingly upon it.

Vasantasena. Madanika girl, do you say this because courtezan courtesy demands it?

Madanika. But mistress, is the courtesy of a girl who lives in a courtezan's house, necessarily false?

Vasantasena. Girl, courtezans meet so many kinds of men that they do learn a false courtesy.

Madanika. But when the eyes of my mistress find such delight in a thing, and her heart too, what need is there to ask the reason?

Vasantasena. But I should not like to have my friends laugh at me.

Madanika. You need not be afraid. Women understand women.

Maid. [Approaching.] Mistress, your mother sends word that a covered cart is waiting at the side-door, and that you are to take a drive.

Vasantasena. Tell me, is it Charudatta who invites me?

Maid. Mistress, the man who sent ornaments worth ten thousand gold-pieces with the cart—

[58.6. S.

Vasantasena. Is who?

Maid. Is the king's brother-in-law, Sansthanaka.

Vasantasena. [Indignantly.] Go! and never come again on such an errand.

Maid. Do not be angry, mistress. I was only sent with the message.

Vasantasena. But it is the message which makes me angry.

Maid. But what shall I tell your mother?

Vasantasena. Tell my mother never to send me another such message, unless she wishes to kill me.

Maid. As you will. [Exit.] [<Enter Sharvilaka.]

Sharv.

Blame for my sin I laid upon the night; I conquered sleep and watchmen of the king; But darkness wanes, and in the sun's clear light My light is like the moon's—a faded thing. 1

And again:

Whoever cast at me a passing look, Or neared me, anxious, as they quickly ran, All such my laden soul for foes mistook; For sin it was wherein man's fear began. 2

Well, it was for Madanika's sake that I did the deed of sin.

I paid no heed to any one who talked with serving-men; The houses ruled by women-folk—these I avoided most; And when policemen seemed to have me almost in their ken, I stood stock-still and acted just exactly like a post. A hundred such manoeuvres did I constantly essay, And by such means succeeded in turning night to day. 3

[He walks about.]

Vasantasena. Girl, lay this picture on my sofa and come back at once with a fan.

Madanika. Yes, mistress. [Exit with the picture.

Sharvilaka. This is Vasantasena's house. I will enter. [He does so.]

P. 101.11]

I wonder where I can find Madanika. [Enter Madanika with the fan. Sharvilaka discovers her.] Ah, it is Madanika.

Surpassing Madana[50] himself in charm, She seems the bride of Love, in human guise; Even while my heart the flames of passion harm, She brings a sandal[51] coolness to my eyes. 4

Madanika!

Madanika. [Discovers Sharvilaka.] Oh, oh, oh, Sharvilaka! I am so glad, Sharvilaka. Where have you been?

Sharvilaka. I will tell you. [They gaze at each other passionately.]

Vasantasena. How Madanika lingers! I wonder where she is. [She looks through a bull's-eye window.] Why, there she stands, talking with a man. Her loving glance does not waver, and she gazes as if she would drink him in. I imagine he must be the man who wishes to make her free. Well, let her stay, let her stay. Never interrupt anybody's happiness. I will not call her.

Madanika. Tell me, Sharvilaka. [Sharvilaka looks about him uneasily.] What is it, Sharvilaka? You seem uneasy.

Sharvilaka. I will tell you a secret. Are we alone?

Madanika. Of course we are.

Vasantasena. What! a deep secret? I will not listen.

Sharvilaka. Tell me, Madanika. Will Vasantasena take a price for your freedom?

Vasantasena. The conversation has to do with me? Then I will hide behind this window and listen.

Madanika. I asked my mistress about it, Sharvilaka, and she said that if she could have her way, she would free all her servants for nothing. But Sharvilaka, where did you find such a fortune that you can think of buying my freedom from my mistress?

Sharvilaka.

A victim to my pauper plight, And your sweet love to win, For you, my timid maid, last night I did the deed of sin. 5

[60.16. S.

Vasantasena. His face is tranquil. It would be troubled, if he had sinned.

Madanika. Oh, Sharvilaka! For a mere nothing—for a woman—you have risked both things!

Sharvilaka. What things?

Madanika. Your life and your character.

Sharvilaka. My foolish girl, fortune favors the brave.

Madanika. Oh, Sharvilaka! Your character was without a stain. You didn't do anything very bad, did you, when for my sake you did the deed of sin?

Sharv.

The gems that magnify a woman's charm, As flowers the creeping plant, I do not harm. I do not rob the Brahman of his pelf, Nor seize the sacrificial gold myself. I do not steal the baby from the nurse, Simply because I need to fill my purse. Even as a thief, I strive with main and might For just distinction 'twixt the wrong and right. 6

And so you may tell Vasantasena this:

These ornaments were made for you to don, Or so it seems to me; But as you love me, never put them on Where other folks may see. 7

Madanika. But Sharvilaka, ornaments that nobody may see, and a courtezan—the two things do not hang together. Give me the jewels. I want to see them.

Sharvilaka. Here they are. [He gives them to her with some uneasiness.]

Madanika. [Examining the jewels.] It seems to me I have seen these before. Tell me. Where did you get them?

P. 104.15]

Sharvilaka. What does that matter to you, Madanika? Take them.

Madanika. [Angrily.] If you can't trust me, why do you wish to buy my freedom?

Sharvilaka. Well, this morning I heard in the merchants' quarter that the merchant Charudatta—

[Vasantasena and Madanika swoon.]

Sharvilaka. Madanika! Come to yourself! Why is it that now

Your figure seems to melt in limp despair, Your eyes are wildly rolling here and there? That when I come, sweet girl, to make you free, You fall to trembling, not to pitying me? 8

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

Madanika. Really?

Sharvilaka. Really.

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

Madanika. Thank heaven!

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

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? 9

[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. 10

Love is a fire, whose flame is lust, Whose fuel is gallantry, Wherein our youth and riches must Thus sacrificed be. 11

[62.16. S.

Vasantasena. [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. 12

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. 13

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. 14

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. 15

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. 16

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. 17

Accursed Charudatta, you shall not live! [He takes a few steps.]

P. 107.11]

Madanika. [Seizing the hem of his garment.] O you foolish man! Your anger is so ridiculous.

Sharvilaka. Ridiculous? how so?

Madanika. Because these jewels belong to my mistress.

Sharvilaka. And what then?

Madanika. And she left them with that gentleman.

Sharvilaka. What for?

Madanika. [Whispers.] That's why.

Sharvilaka. [Sheepishly.] Confound it!

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. 18

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

Sharvilaka. What is to be done now, Madanika?

Madanika. 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. 19

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

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

Madanika. No cruel heat comes from the moon.

Vasantasena. Good, Madanika, good!

Sharvilaka. Madanika,

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? 20

Nevertheless, your suggestion is inconsistent with prudence. You must discover some other plan.

[64.16. S.

Madanika. Yes, there is another plan.

Vasantasena. I wonder what it will be.

Madanika. Pretend to be a servant of that gentleman, and give the jewels to my mistress.

Sharvilaka. And what then?

Madanika. Then you are no thief, Charudatta has discharged his obligation, and my mistress has her jewels.

Sharvilaka. But isn't this course too reckless?

Madanika. I tell you, give them to her. Any other course is too reckless.

Vasantasena. Good, Madanika, good! Spoken like a free woman.

Sharvilaka.

Risen at last is wisdom's light. Because I followed after you; When clouds obscure the moon by night, 'Tis hard to find a guide so true. 21

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

Sharvilaka. I will.

Madanika. [Approaches Vasantasena.] Mistress, a Brahman has come from Charudatta to see you.

Vasantasena. But girl, how do you know that he comes from Charudatta?

Madanika. Should I not know my own, mistress?

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

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

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

P. 110.8]

Vasantasena. I salute you, sir. Pray be seated.

Sharvilaka. The merchant sends this message: "My house is so old that it is hard to keep this casket safe. Pray take it back." [He gives it to Madanika, and starts to leave.]

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

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

Vasantasena. You will be good enough to accept Madanika.

Sharvilaka. Madam, I do not quite understand.

Vasantasena. But I do.

Sharvilaka. How so?

Vasantasena. Charudatta told me that I was to give Madanika 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, Charudatta, good!

On virtue only set your heart's desire; The righteous poor attain to heights whereto The wicked wealthy never may aspire. 22

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. 23

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

Servant. Mistress, the cart is ready.

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

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

Vasantasena. You are now the one to whom honor should be paid.[52] Go then, enter the cart. But do not forget me.

[66.17. S.

Sharvilaka. Heaven bless you! and you, Madanika,

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. 24

[He enters the bullock-cart with Madanika, 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 Palaka 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 Palaka 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. 25

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

Madanika. [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.

Madanika. If you desire it, dear. But dear, you must be very careful. [Exit.

P. 113.6]

Sharvilaka. Now as for me,

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 Yaugandharayana For the good king Udayana. 26

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-oppressed moon. [Exit.] 27

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

Vasantasena. 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! Ravana, 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 they flutter in the breeze and seem to invite me to enter. Both sides are decorated with holiday water-jars of crystal, which are charming with their bright-green mango twigs, and are set at the foot of the pillars that sustain the portal. The doors are of gold, thickly set with diamonds as hard to pierce as a giant's breast. It actually wearies a poor devil's envy. Yes, Vasantasena's house-door is a beautiful thing. Really, it forcibly challenges the attention of a man who doesn't care about such things.

[68.16. S.

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

Maitreya. [Enters and looks about.] Well! Here in the first court are rows of balconies brilliant as the moon, or as sea-shells, or as lotus-stalks; whitened by handfuls of powder strewn over them; gleaming with golden stairways inlaid with all sorts of gems: they seem to gaze down on Ujjayini with their round faces, the crystal windows, from which strings of pearls are dangling. The porter sits there and snoozes as comfortably as a professor. The crows which they tempt with rice-gruel and curdled milk will not eat the offering, because they can't distinguish it from the mortar. Show me the way, madam.

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

Maitreya. [Enters and looks about.] Well! Here in the second court the cart-bullocks are tied. They grow fat on mouthfuls of grass and pulse-stalks which are brought them, right and left, by everybody. Their horns are smeared with oil. And here is another, a buffalo, snorting like a gentleman insulted. And here is a ram[53] 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 are these seats, prepared for young gentlemen to sit on. A half-read book is lying on the gaming-table. And the table itself has its own dice, made out of gems. And here, again, are courtezans and old hangers-on at court, past masters in the war and peace of love, wandering about and holding in their fingers pictures painted in many colors. Show me the way, madam.

P. 117.4]

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

Maitreya. [Enters and looks about.] Well! Here in the fourth court the drums that maiden fingers beat are booming like the thunder; the cymbals are falling, as the stars fall from heaven when their merit is exhausted;[54] 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, adorned with any number of jewels, just like Gandharvas[55] and Apsarases.[56] Really, this house is heaven. Tell me, who are you bastards anyway?

[70.13. S.

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. 28

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.

P. 121.5]

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

Maitreya. [Enters and looks about.] Well! Here in the seventh court the mated doves are sitting comfortably in their snug dovecotes, billing and cooing and nothing else, and perfectly happy. And there is a parrot in a cage, chanting like a Brahman with a bellyful of curdled milk and rice. And here, again, is a talking thrush, chattering like a housemaid who spreads herself because somebody noticed her. A cuckoo, her throat still happy from tasting all sorts of fruit-syrups, is cooing like a procuress. Rows of cages are hanging from pegs. Quails are being egged on to fight. Partridges are being made to talk. Caged pigeons are being provoked. A tame peacock that looks as if he was adorned with all sorts of gems is dancing happily about, and as he flaps his wings, he seems to be fanning the roof which is distressed by the rays of the sun. [He looks in another direction.] Here are pairs of flamingos like moonbeams rolled into a ball, that wander about after pretty girls, as if they wanted to learn how to walk gracefully. And here, again, are tame cranes, walking around like ancient eunuchs. Well, well! This courtezan keeps a regular menagerie of birds. Really, the courtezan's house seems to me like Indra's heaven. Show me the way, madam.

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

Maitreya. [Enters and looks about.] Madam, who is this in the silk cloak, adorned with such astonishingly tautologous ornaments, who wanders about, stumbling and stretching his limbs?

Maid. Sir, this is my mistress' brother.

Maitreya. What sort of ascetic exercises does a man have to perform, in order to be born as Vasantasena's brother? But no,

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. 29

[He looks in another direction.] But madam, who is that in the expansive garment, sitting on the throne? She has shoes on her greasy feet.

[72.9. S.

Maid. Sir, that is my mistress' mother.

Maitreya. Lord! What an extensive belly the dirty old witch has got! I suppose they couldn't put that superb portal on the house till after they had brought the idol in?

Maid. Rascal! You must not make fun of our mother so. She is pining away under a quartan ague.

Maitreya. [Bursts out laughing.] O thou blessed quartan ague! Look thou upon a Brahman, even upon me, with this thy favor!

Maid. Rascal! May death strike you.

Maitreya. [Bursts out laughing.] Why, wench, a pot-belly like that is better dead.

Drinking brandy, rum, and wine, Mother fell extremely ill. If mother now should peak and pine, A jackal-pack would have its fill. 30

Well, I have seen Vasantasena'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[57] 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 shephalika, the white jasmine, the jessamine, the navamallika, the amaranth, the spring creeper, and all the other flowers have fallen of themselves, and really, it makes Indra's heaven look dingy. [He looks in another direction.] And the pond here looks like the morning twilight, for the lilies and red lotuses are as splendid as the rising sun. And again:

The ashoka-tree, whose twigs so merry And crimson flowers have just appeared, Seems like a battling mercenary, With clotting crimson gore besmeared. 31

Good! Now where's your mistress?

P. 126.7]

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

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

Vasantasena. [Speaking in Sanskrit.[58]] Ah, Maitreya! [Rising.] You are very welcome. Here is a seat. Pray be seated.

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

Vasantasena. Is the merchant's son well?

Maitreya. Well, madam.

Vasantasena. 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? 32

Maitreya. [Aside.] A good description by a naughty woman. [Aloud.] They do, indeed.

Vasantasena. Tell me, what is the purpose of your coming?

Maitreya. Listen, madam. The excellent Charudatta folds his hands[59] and requests—

Vasantasena. [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.

Vasantasena. [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.

Vasantasena. [Aside.] Shall I show him the jewels? [Reflecting.] No, not yet.

Maitreya. Why don't you take this necklace?

Vasantasena. [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 Charudatta 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.

Vasantasena. Take these jewels, girl. Let us go and bring cheer to Charudatta.

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. 33

Take the necklace, girl, and come quickly. [Exeunt omnes.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 50: A name of Kama, the god of love.]

[Footnote 51: Used as a refrigerant.]

[Footnote 52: That is to say. You are now a legal wife, while I am still a courtesan.]

[Footnote 53: "Rams in India are commonly trained to fight." WILSON.]

[Footnote 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.]

[Footnote 55: The choristers of heaven.]

[Footnote 56: The nymphs of heaven.]

[Footnote 57: The god of wealth.]

[Footnote 58: This shows the excellence of Vasantasena's education. Women, as an almost invariable rule, speak Prakrit.]

[Footnote 59: A gesture of respectful entreaty.]



ACT THE FIFTH

THE STORM

[The love-lorn Charudatta appears, seated.]

Charudatta. [Looks up.]

An untimely storm[60] is gathering. For see! 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:

The wet bull's belly wears no deeper dye; 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:

As dark as Vishnu's form, with circling cranes To trumpet him, instead of bugle strains, And garmented in lightning's silken robe. Approaches now the harbinger of rains. 3

When lightning's lamp is lit, the silver river Impetuous falls from out the cloudy womb; Like severed lace from heaven-cloaking gloom, It gleams an instant, then is gone forever. 4

Like shoaling fishes, or like dolphins shy, 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

The sky is black as Dhritarashtra's face; 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 Pandu's sons, to seek an unknown place. 6

[Reflecting.] It is long since Maitreya went to visit Vasantasena. 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 Charudatta.] Ah, my good friend is sitting in the orchard. I 'll go to him. [Approaching.] Heaven bless you! May happiness be yours.

Charudatta. [Looking up.] Ah, my friend Maitreya has returned. You are very welcome, my friend. Pray be seated.

Maitreya. Thank you.

Charudatta. Tell me of your errand, my friend.

Maitreya. My errand went all wrong.

P. 132.8]

Charudatta. 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.

Charudatta. 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?

Charudatta. Not so, my friend.

She showed her trust in leaving us her treasure; 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.

Charudatta. Oh, my friend, a truce to all your detraction! My poverty of itself prevents me. For consider:

The horse would gladly hasten here and there, 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:

If wealth is thine, the maid is thine, For maids are won by gold;

[Aside. And not by virtue cold. Aloud.]

But wealth is now no longer mine, 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.

Charudatta. Let her come, my friend. She shall not depart unsatisfied. [Enter Kumbhilaka.]

Kumbhilaka. Listen, good people.

The more it rains in sheets, 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 sweet flute speak from seven holes, I make the loud lute speak on seven strings; In singing, I essay the donkey's roles: No god can match my music when he sings. 11

My mistress Vasantasena said to me "Kumbhilaka, go and tell Charudatta that I am coming." So here I am, on my way to Charudatta's house. [He walks about, and, as he enters, discovers Charudatta.] Here is Charudatta 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?

Charudatta. 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]

Charudatta. [Holding him back by the sacred cord.] Sit down, my friend. What do you mean? Leave the poor pigeon alone with his mate.

Kumbhilaka. 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! Kumbhilaka? I'll be with you in a minute. [He approaches and opens the gate.] Well, Kumbhilaka, come in. I'm glad to see you.

Kumbhilaka. [Enters.] I salute you, sir.

Maitreya. Where do you come from, man, in this rain and darkness?

Kumbhilaka. You see, she's here.

Maitreya. Who's she? Who's here?

Kumbhilaka. 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"?

Kumbhilaka. And what makes you hoot like an owl with your "whowhowho"?

Maitreya. All right. Tell me.

Kumbhilaka. [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.

Kumbhilaka. Not till you've guessed it. In what season do the mango-trees blossom?

Maitreya. In summer, you jackass.

Kumbhilaka. [Laughing.] Wrong!

Maitreya. [Aside.] What shall I say now? [Reflecting.] Good! I'll go and ask Charudatta. [Aloud.] Just wait a moment. [Approaching Charudatta.] My friend, I just wanted to ask you in what season the mango-trees blossom.

[81.3. S.

Charudatta. You fool, in spring, in vasanta.

Maitreya. [Returns to Kumbhilaka.] You fool, in spring, in vasanta.

Kumbhilaka. Now I 'll give you another. Who guards thriving villages?

Maitreya. Why, the guard.

Kumbhilaka. [Laughing.] Wrong!

Maitreya. Well, I'm stuck. [Reflecting.] Good! I'll ask Charudatta again. [He returns and puts the question to Charudatta.]

Charudatta. The army, my friend, the sena.

Maitreya. [Comes back to Kumbhilaka.] The army, you jackass, the sena.

Kumbhilaka. Now put the two together and say 'em fast.

Maitreya. Sena-vasanta.

Kumbhilaka. Say it turned around.

Maitreya. [Turns around.] Sena-vasanta.

Kumbhilaka. You fool! you jackanapes! Turn the parts of the thing around!

Maitreya. [Turns his feet around.] Sena-vasanta.

Kumbhilaka. You fool! Turn the parts of the word around!

Maitreya. [After reflection.] Vasanta-sena.

Kumbhilaka. She's here.

Maitreya. Then I must tell Charudatta. [Approaching.] Well, Charudatta, your creditor is here.

Charudatta. How should a creditor come into my family?

Maitreya. Not in the family perhaps, but at the door. Vasantasena is here.

Charudatta. Why do you deceive me, my friend?

Maitreya. If you can't trust me, then ask Kumbhilaka here. Kumbhilaka, you jackass, come here.

P. 140.4]

Kumbhilaka. [Approaching.] I salute you, sir.

Charudatta. You are welcome, my good fellow. Tell me, is Vasantasena really here?

Kumbhilaka. Yes, she's here. Vasantasena is here.

Charudatta. [Joyfully.] My good fellow, I have never let the bearer of welcome news go unrewarded. Take this as your recompense. [He gives him his mantle.]

Kumbhilaka. [Takes it and bows. Gleefully.] I'll tell my mistress.

[Exit.

Maitreya. Do you see why she comes in a storm like this?

Charudatta. I do not quite understand, my friend.

Maitreya. I know. She has an idea that the pearl necklace is cheap, and the golden casket expensive. She isn't satisfied, and she has come to look for something more.

Charudatta. [Aside.] She shall not depart unsatisfied.

* * * * *

[Then enter the love-lorn Vasantasena, in a splendid garment, fit for a woman who goes to meet her lover, a maid with an umbrella, and the courtier.]

Courtier. [Referring to Vasantasena.]

Lakshmi[63] without the lotus-flower is she, Loveliest arrow of god Kama's bow,[64] The sweetest blossom on love's magic tree.

See how she moves, so gracefully and slow! In passion's hour she still loves modesty; In her, good wives their dearest sorrow know.

When passion's drama shall enacted be. When on love's stage appears the passing show, A host of wanderers shall bend them low. Glad to be slaves in such captivity. 12

[82.94. S.

See, Vasantasena, see!

The clouds hang drooping to the mountain peaks, Like a maiden's heart, that distant lover seeks: The peacocks startle, when the thunder booms, And fan the heaven with all their jeweled plumes. 13

And again:

Mud-stained, and pelted by the streaming rain, To drink the falling drops the frogs are fain; Full-throated peacocks love's shrill passion show, And nipa flowers like brilliant candles glow; Unfaithful clouds obscure the hostage moon, Like knaves, unworthy of so dear a boon; Like some poor maid of better breeding bare, The impatient lightning rests not anywhere. 14

Vasantasena.[65] Sir, what you say is most true. For

The night, an angry rival, bars my way; Her thunders fain would check and hinder me: "Fond fool! with him I love thou shalt not stay, 'T is I, 't is I, he loves," she seems to say, "Nor from my swelling bosom shall he flee." 15

Courtier. Yes, yes. That is right. Scold the night.

Vasantasena. And yet, sir, why scold one who is so ignorant of woman's nature! For you must remember:

The clouds may rain, may thunder ne'er so bold, May flash the lightning from the sky above; That woman little recks of heat or cold, Who journeys to her love. 16

Courtier. But see, Vasantasena! Another cloud,

Sped by the fickle fury of the air— A flood of arrows in his rushing streams, His drum, the roaring thunder's mighty blare, His banner, living lightning's awful gleams—

Rages within the sky, and shows him bold 'Mid beams that to the moon allegiance owe, Like a hero-king within the hostile hold Of his unwarlike foe. 17

P. 142.9]

Vasantasena. True, true. And more than this:

As dark as elephants, these clouds alone Fall like a cruel dart— With streaks of lightning and with white birds strewn— To wound my wretched heart. But, oh, why should the heron, bird of doom, With that perfidious sound[66] Of "Rain! Rain! Rain!"—grim summons to the tomb For her who spends her lonely hours in gloom— Strew salt upon the wound? 18

Courtier. Very true, Vasantasena. And yet again:

It seems as if the sky would take the guise Of some fierce elephant to service bred; The lightning like a waving streamer flies, And white cranes serve to deck his mighty head. 19

Vasantasena. But look, sir, look!

Clouds, black as wet tamala-leaves, the ball Of heaven hide from our sight; Rain-smitten homes of ants decay and fall Like beasts that arrows smite; Like golden lamps within a lordly hall Wander the lightnings bright; As when men steal the wife of some base thrall, Clouds rob the moon of light. 20

Courtier. See, Vasantasena, see!

Clouds, harnessed in the lightning's gleams, Like charging elephants dash by; At Indra's bidding, pour their streams, Until with silver cords it seems That earth is linked with sky. 21

[84.14. S.

And look yonder!

As herds of buffaloes the clouds are black; The winds deny them ease; They fly on lightning wings and little lack Of seeming troubled seas.

Smitten with falling drops, the fragrant sod, Upon whose bosom greenest grasses nod, Seems pierced with pearls, each pearl an arrowy rod. 22

Vasantasena. And here is yet another cloud.

The peacock's shrill-voiced cry Implores it to draw nigh; And ardent cranes on high Embrace it lovingly.

The wistful swans espy The lotus-sweeter sky; The darkest colors lie On heaven clingingly. 23

Courtier. True. For see!

A thousand lotuses that bloom by night, A thousand blooming when the day is bright, Nor close nor ope their eyes to heaven's sight; There is no night nor day.

The face of heaven, thus shrouded in the night, Is only for a single instant bright, When momentary lightning gives us sight; Else is it dark alway.

Now sleeps the world as still as in the night Within the house of rain where naught is bright, Where hosts of swollen clouds seem to our sight One covering veil of gray. 24

P. 143.20]

Vasantasena. True. And see!

The stars are lost like mercies given To men of evil heart; Like lonely-parted wives, the heaven Sees all her charms depart. And, molten in the cruel heat Of Indra's bolt, it seems As if the sky fell at our feet In liquid, flowing streams. 25

And yet again:

The clouds first darkly rise, then darkly fall, Send forth their floods of rain, and thunder all; Assuming postures strange and manifold, Like men but newly blest with wealth untold. 26

Courtier. True.

The heaven is radiant with the lightning's glare; Its laughter is the cry of myriad cranes; Its voice, the bolts that whistle through the air; Its dance, that bow whose arrows are the rains. It staggers at the winds, and seems to smoke With clouds, which form its black and snaky cloak. 27

Vasantasena. O shameless, shameless sky!

To thunder thus, while I To him I love draw nigh. Why do thy thunders frighten me and pain? Why am I seized upon by hands of rain? 28

O Indra, mighty Indra!

Did I then give thee of my love before, That now thy clouds like mighty lions roar? Ah no! Thou shouldst not send thy streaming rain, To fill my journey to my love with pain. 29

[83.23. S.

Remember:

For Ahalya's sweet sake thou once didst lie; Thou knowest lover's pain. As thou didst suffer then, now suffer I; O cruel, cease thy rain. 30

And yet:

Thunder and rain and lighten hundredfold Forth from thy sky above; The woman canst thou not delay nor hold Who journeys to her love. 31

Let thunders roar, for men were cruel ever; But oh, thou maiden lightning! didst thou never Know pains that maidens know? 32

Courtier. But mistress, do not scold the lightning. She is your friend,

This golden cord that trembles on the breast Of great Airavata;[67] upon the crest Of rocky hills this banner all ablaze; This lamp in Indra's palace; but most blest As telling where your most beloved stays. 33

Vasantasena. And here, sir, is his house.

Courtier. You know all the arts, and need no instruction now. Yet love bids me prattle. When you enter here, you must not show yourself too angry.

Where anger is, there love is not; Or no! except for anger hot, There is no love.

Be angry! make him angry then! Be kind! and make him kind again— The man you love. 34

So much for that. Who is there? Let Charudatta know, that

P. 145.17]

While clouds look beautiful, and in the hour Fragrant with nipa and kadamba flower, She comes to see her lover, very wet. With dripping locks, but pleased and loving yet. Though lightning and though thunder terrifies, She comes to see you; 't is for you she sighs. The mud still soils the anklets on her feet, But in a moment she will have them sweet. 35

Charudatta. [Listening.] My friend, pray discover what this means.

Maitreya. Yes, sir. [He approaches Vasantasena. Respectfully.] Heaven bless you!

Vasantasena. I salute you, sir. I am very glad to see you. [To the courtier.] Sir, the maid with the umbrella is at your service.

Courtier. [Aside.] A very clever way to get rid of me. [Aloud.] Thank you. And mistress Vasantasena,

Pride and tricks and lies and fraud Are in your face; False playground of the lustful god, Such is your face; The wench's stock in trade, in fine, Epitome of joys divine, I mean, your face— For sale! the price is courtesy. I trust you'll find a man to buy Your face. [Exit.] 36

Vasantasena. Good Maitreya, where is your gambler?

Maitreya. [Aside.] "Gambler"? Ah, she's paying a compliment to my friend. [Aloud.] Madam, here he is in the dry orchard.

Vasantasena. But sir, what do you call a dry orchard?

Maitreya. Madam, it's a place where there's nothing to eat or drink, [Vasantasena smiles.] Pray enter, madam.

Vasantasena. [Aside to her maid.] What shall I say when I enter?

[87.17. S.

Maid. "Gambler, what luck this evening?"

Vasantasena. Shall I dare to say it?

Maid. When the time comes, it will say itself.

Maitreya. Enter, madam.

Vasantasena. [Enters, approaches Charudatta, and strikes him with the flowers which she holds.] Well, gambler, what luck this evening?

Charudatta. [Discovers her.] Ah, Vasantasena is here. [He rises joyfully.] Oh, my beloved,

My evenings pass in watching ever, My nights from sighs are never free; This evening cannot else than sever— In bringing you—my grief and me. 37

You are very, very welcome. Here is a seat. Pray be seated.

Maitreya. Here is a seat. Be seated, madam. [Vasantasena sits, then the others.]

Charudatta. But see, my friend,

The dripping flower that decks her ear, droops down, And one sweet breast Anointed is, like a prince who wears the crown, With ointment blest. 38

My friend, Vasantasena's garments are wet. Let other, and most beautiful, garments be brought.

Maitreya. Yes, sir.

Maid. Good Maitreya, do you stay here. I will wait upon my mistress. [She does so.]

Maitreya. [Aside to Charudatta.] My friend, I'd just like to ask the lady a question.

Charudatta. Then do so.

Maitreya. [Aloud.] Madam, what made you come here, when it is so stormy and dark that you can't see the moon?

Maid. Mistress, the Brahman is very plain-spoken.

P. 148.17]

Vasantasena. You might better call him clever.

Maid. My mistress came to ask how much that pearl necklace is worth.

Maitreya. [Aside to Charudatta.] There! I told you so. She thinks the pearl necklace is cheap, and the golden casket is expensive. She isn't satisfied. She has come to look for something more.

Maid. For my mistress imagined that it was her own, and gambled it away. And nobody knows where the gambling-master has gone, for he is employed in the king's business.

Maitreya. Madam, you are simply repeating what somebody said before.

Maid. While we are looking for him, pray take this golden casket. [She displays the casket. Maitreya hesitates.] Sir, you examine it very closely. Did you ever see it before?

Maitreya. No, madam, but the skilful workmanship captivates the eye.

Maid. Your eyes deceive you, sir. This is the golden casket.

Maitreya. [Joyfully.] Well, my friend, here is the golden casket, the very one that thieves stole from our house.

Charudatta. My friend,

The artifice we tried before, Her stolen treasure to restore, Is practised now on us. But no, I cannot think 't is really so. 39

Maitreya. But it is so. I swear it on my Brahmanhood.

Charudatta. This is welcome news.

Maitreya. [Aside to Charudatta.] I'm going to ask where they found it.

Charudatta. I see no harm in that.

Maitreya. [Whispers in the maid's ear.] There!

Maid. [Whispers in Maitreya's ear.] So there!

[89.19. S.

Charudatta. What is it? and why are we left out?

Maitreya. [Whispers in Charudatta's ear.] So there!

Charudatta. My good girl, is this really the same golden casket?

Maid. Yes, sir, the very same.

Charudatta. My good girl, I have never let the bearer of welcome news go unrewarded. Take this ring as your recompense. [He looks at his finger, notices that the ring is gone, and betrays his embarrassment.]

Vasantasena. [To herself.] I love you for that.

Charudatta. [Aside to Maitreya.] Alas,

When in this world a man has lost his all, Why should he set his heart on longer life? His angers and his favors fruitless fall, His purposes and powers are all at strife. 40

Like wingless birds, dry pools, or withered trees, Like fangless snakes—the poor are like to these. 41

Like man-deserted houses, blasted trees, Like empty wells—the poor are like to these. For them no pleasant hours serve happy ends; They are forgotten of their sometime friends. 42

Maitreya. But you must not grieve thus beyond reason. [He bursts out laughing. Aloud.] Madam, please give me back my bath-clout.

Vasantasena. Charudatta, it was not right that you should show your distrust of me by sending me this pearl necklace.

Charudatta. [With an embarrassed smile.] But remember, Vasantasena,

Who will believe the truth? Suspicion now is sure. This world will show no ruth To the inglorious poor. 43

P. 152.4]

Maitreya. Tell me, girl, are you going to sleep here to-night?

Maid. [Laughing.] But good Maitreya, you show yourself most remarkably plain-spoken now.

Maitreya. See, my friend, the rain enters again in great streams, as if it wanted to drive people away when they are sitting comfortably together.

Charudatta. You are quite right.

The falling waters pierce the cloud, As lotus-shoots the soil; And tears the face of heaven shroud, Who weeps the moon's vain toil. 44