The Little Clay Cart by Sudraka (best classic romance novels TXT) 📕
- Author: Sudraka
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From the cart wherein you ride,
As did Jatāyu Bāli's fair,
The monkey Bāli's bride.20
Courtier.
Insulted thus despitefully;
Nor garden creepers may not be
Robbed of their leaves so cruelly.21
Stand up, man. I will help her to alight. Come, Vasantasenā! [Vasantasenā alights and stands apart.]
Sansthānaka. [Aside.] The flame of wrath was kindled when she despised my proposition, and now it blazes up because she kicked me. Sho now I 'll murder her. Good! Thish way. [Aloud.] Well, shir, what do you want?
Tied with a hundred shtrings? or good ragout,
To make you shmack your greedy lips and call
"Chuhoo, chuhoo, chukku, chuhoo, chuhooo"?22
Courtier. Well?
Sansthānaka. Do me a favor.
[123.11. S.
Courtier. Certainly. Anything, unless it be a sin.
Sansthānaka. There's not a shmell of a shin in it, shir. Not a perfume!
Courtier. Speak, then.
Sansthānaka. Murder Vasantasenā.
Courtier. [Stopping his ears.]
A courtezan whose love was stainless ever—
If I should kill her, sinless, without pity.
What boat would bear me on the gloomy river?23
Sansthānaka. I'll give you a boat. And beshides, in thish deserted garden, who'll shee you murdering her?
Courtier.
The wind, the moon, the sun whose rays are light,
Virtue, my conscience—these I cannot fly,
Nor earth, that witnesses to wrong and right.24
Sansthānaka. Well then, put your cloak over her and murder her.
Courtier. You fool! You scoundrel!
Sansthānaka. The old hog is afraid of a shin. Never mind. I'll pershuade Sthāvaraka, my shlave. Sthāvaraka, my little shon, my shlave, I'll give you golden bracelets.
Sthāvaraka. And I'll wear them.
Sansthānaka. I'll have a golden sheat made for you.
Sthāvaraka. And I'll sit on it.
Sansthānaka. I'll give you all my leavings.
Sthāvaraka. And I'll eat them.
Sansthānaka. I'll make you the chief of all my shervants.
Sthāvaraka. Master, I'll be the chief.
Sansthānaka. You only have to attend to what I shay.
Sthāvaraka. Master, I will do anything, unless it be a sin.
P. 205.12]
Sansthānaka. There's not a shmell of a shin in it.
Sthāvaraka. Then speak, master.
Sansthānaka. Murder Vasantasenā.
Sthāvaraka. Oh, master, be merciful! Unworthy as I am, I brought this worthy lady hither, because she mistook this bullock-cart for another.
Sansthānaka. You shlave, ain't I your mashter?
Sthāvaraka. Master of my body, not of my character. Be merciful, master, be merciful! I am afraid.
Sansthānaka. You're my shlave. Who are you afraid of?
Sthāvaraka. Of the other world, master.
Sansthānaka. Who is thish "other world"?
Sthāvaraka. Master, it is a rewarder of righteousness and sin.
Sansthānaka. What is the reward of righteoushness?
Sthāvaraka. To be like my master, with plenty of golden ornaments.
Sansthānaka. What is the reward of shin?
Sthāvaraka. To be like me, eating another man's bread. That is why I will do no sin.
Sansthānaka. Sho you won't murder her? [He beats him with all his might.]
Sthāvaraka. You may beat me, master. You may kill me, master. I will do no sin.
A slave I live, a slave I die;
But further woe I will not buy,
I will not, will not sin.25
Vasantasenā. Sir, I throw myself upon your protection.
Courtier. Pardon him, jackass! Well done, Sthāvaraka!
Seek virtue's meed beyond the grave?
And is his lord indifferent?
Then why are not such creatures sent
To instant hell, whose sinful store
Grows great, who know not virtue more?26
[125.14. S.
And again:
And enters through the straitest gate;
Since he is slave, and you are lord,
Since he does not enjoy your hoard,
Since you do not obey his word.27
Sansthānaka. [Aside.] The old jackal is afraid of a shin, and the "lifelong shlave" is afraid of the other world. Who am I afraid of, I, the king's brother-in-law, an arishtocrat, a man? [Aloud.] Well, shervant, you "lifelong shlave," you can go. Go to your room and resht and keep out of my way.
Sthāvaraka. Yes, master. [To Vasantasenā.] Madam, I have no further power.[Exit.
Sansthānaka. [Girds up his loins.] Wait a minute, Vasantasenā, wait a minute. I want to murder you.
Courtier. You will kill her before my eyes? [He seizes him by the throat.]
Sansthānaka. [Falls to the ground.] Shir, you 're murdering your mashter. [He loses consciousness, but recovers.]
And gave him butter too, to eat;
Now for the friend in need I search;
Why does he leave me in the lurch?28
[After reflection.] Good! I have an idea. The old jackal gave her a hint by shaking his head at her. Sho I 'll shend him away, and then I 'll murder Vasantasenā. That's the idea. [Aloud.] Shir, I was born in a noble family as great as a wine-glass. How could I do that shin I shpoke about? I jusht shaid it to make her love me.
P. 209.3]
Courtier. Why should you boast of this your noble birth?
But thorns and weeds grow rank in fertile earth.29
Sansthānaka. She 's ashamed to confessh her love when you 're here. Please go. My shervant Sthāvaraka has gone too after getting a beating. He may be running away. Catch him, shir, and come back with him.
Courtier. [Aside.]
While I am near, her love for one so crude;
So now I leave her here with him alone;
Love's confidences long for solitude.30
[Aloud.] Very well. I go.
Vasantasenā. [Seizing the hem of his garment.] Did I not throw myself upon your protection?
Courtier. Do not fear, Vasantasenā. Jackass, Vasantasenā is a pledge, committed to your hand.
Sansthānaka. All right. Jusht let her be committed to my hand. It 's a pledge that I 'll execute.
Courtier. Are you honest?
Sansthānaka. Honesht.
Courtier. [Takes a few steps.] No! If I go, the wretch might kill her. I will conceal myself for a moment, and see what he intends to do. [He stands apart.]
Sansthānaka. Good! I 'll murder her. But no! Perhaps thish tricky trickshter, thish Brahman, thish old jackal, has gone and hidden himshelf; he might raise a howl like the jackal he is. I 'll jusht do thish to deceive him. [He gathers flowers and adorns himself.] Vasantasenā, my love, my love! Come!
Courtier. Yes, he has turned lover. Good! I am content. I will go.[Exit.
[127.12. S.
Sansthānaka.
My turbaned head adores your feet.
Why not love me, my clean-toothed girl?
Why worship such a pauper churl?31
Vasantasenā. How can you ask? [She bows her head and recites the following verses.]
Why tempt me now with gold and power?
The honey-loving bees adore
The pure and stainless lotus flower.32
Peculiar honor waits upon his woe;
And 't is the glory of a courtezan
To set her love upon an honest man.33
And I, who have loved the mango-tree, I cannot cling to the locust-tree.
Sansthānaka. Wench, you make that poor little Chārudatta into a mango-tree, and me you call a locusht-tree, not even an acacia! That 's the way you abuse me, and even yet you remember Chārudatta.
Vasantasenā. Why should I not remember him who dwells in my heart?
Sansthānaka. Thish very minute I 'm going to shtrangle "him who dwells in your heart," and you too. Shtand shtill, you poor-merchant-man's lover!
Vasantasenā. Oh speak, oh speak again these words that do me honor!
Sansthānaka. Jusht let poor Chārudatta—the shon of a shlave—reshcue you now!
Vasantasenā. He would rescue me, if he saw me.
Sansthānaka.
Shon of a nymph? or wears a demon's shape?
The kingly deity of wind and rain?
The offshpring of the Pāndu-princes' bane?
A prophet? or a vulture known afar?
A shtatesman? or a beetle? or a shtar?34
P. 212.11]
But even if he was, he could n't reshcue you.
Was killed by good old Chānakya,
Sho I intend to throttle thee,
As did Jatāyu Draupadī.35
[He raises his arm to strike her.]
Vasantasenā. Mother! where are you? Oh, Chārudatta! my heart's longing is unfulfilled, and now I die! I will scream for help. No! It would bring shame on Vasantasenā, should she scream for help. Heaven bless Chārudatta!
Sansthānaka. Does the wench shpeak that rashcal's name even yet? [He seizes her by the throat.] Remember him, wench, remember him!
Vasantasenā. Heaven bless Chārudatta!
Sansthānaka. Die, wench! [He strangles her. Vasantasenā loses consciousness, and falls motionless.]
Sansthānaka. [Gleefully.]
Thish foul abode of impudence—
She came to love, she shtayed to blench,
For Death's embrace took every sense.
But why boasht I of valorous arms and shtout?
She shimply died because her breath gave out.
Like Sītā in the Bhārata, she lies.
Ah, mother mine! how prettily she dies.36
[129.4. S.
I shaw the empty garden, set the shnare,
And frightened her, and made the poor girl blench.
My brother! Oh, my father! Thish is where
You misshed the shight of heroism shtout;
Your brother and your shon here blosshomed out
Into a man; like Mother Draupadī,
You were not there, my bravery to shee.37
Good! The old jackal will be here in a minute. I 'll shtep ashide and wait. [He does so.]
[Enter the courtier, with Sthāvaraka.]
Courtier. I have persuaded the servant Sthāvaraka to come back, and now I will look for the jackass. [He walks about and looks around him.] But see! A tree has fallen by the roadside, and killed a woman in its fall. O cruel! How couldst thou do this deed of shame? And when I see that a woman was slain by thy fatal fall, I too am felled to the earth. Truly, my heart's fear for Vasantasenā was an evil omen. Oh, heaven grant that all may yet be well! [He approaches Sansthānaka.] Jackass, I have persuaded your servant Sthāvaraka to return.
Sansthānaka. How do you do, shir? Sthāvaraka, my little shon, my shlave, how do you do?
Sthāvaraka. Well, thank you.
Courtier. Give me my pledge.
Sansthānaka. What pledge?
Courtier. Vasantasenā.
Sansthānaka. She's gone.
Courtier. Where?
Sansthānaka. Right after you.
Courtier. [Doubtfully.] No, she did not go in that direction.
Sansthānaka. In what direction did you go?
Courtier. Toward the east.
Sansthānaka. Well, she went shouth.[81]
Courtier. So did I.
P. 216.2]
Sansthānaka. She went north.
Courtier. This is nonsense. My heart is not satisfied. Speak the truth.
Sansthānaka. I shwear by your head, shir, and my own feet. You may be easy in your heart. I murdered her.
Courtier. [Despairingly.] You really killed her?
Sansthānaka. If you don't believe my words, then shee the firsht heroic deed of Sansthānaka, the king's brother-in-law. [He points out the body.]
Courtier. Alas! Ah, woe is me! [He falls in a swoon.]
Sansthānaka. Hee, hee! The gentleman is calm enough now!
Sthāvaraka. Oh, sir! Come to yourself! I am the first murderer, for I brought the bullock-cart hither without looking into it.
Courtier. [Comes to himself. Mournfully.] Alas, Vasantasenā!
And happiness to her own land doth flee,
Sweet gem of gems, that knew love's gentle play,
Love's mart and beauty's! Joy of
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