A History of Sanskrit Literature Part 22

In the second act the comic element is introduced with the jester Mathavya, who is as much disgusted with his master's love-lorn condition as with his fondness for the chase. In the third act, the love-sick cakuntala is discovered lying on a bed of flowers in an arbour. The king overhears her conversation with her two friends, shows himself, and offers to wed the heroine. An interlude explains how a choleric ascetic, named Durvasa, enraged at not being greeted by cakuntala with due courtesy, owing to her pre-occupied state, had p.r.o.nounced a curse which should cause her to be entirely forgotten by her lover, who could recognise her only by means of a ring.

The king having meanwhile married cakuntala and returned home, the sage Kanva has resolved to send her to her husband. The way in which cakuntala takes leave of the sacred grove in which she has been brought up, of her flowers, her gazelles, and her friends, is charmingly described in the fourth act. This is the act which contains the most obvious beauties; for here the poet displays to the full the richness of his fancy, his abundant sympathy with Nature, and a profound knowledge of the human heart.

A young Brahman pupil thus describes the dawning of the day on which cakuntala is to leave the forest hermitage--

On yonder side the moon, the Lord of Plants, Sinks down behind the western mountain's crest; On this, the sun preceded by the dawn Appears: the setting and the rise at once Of these two orbs the symbols are of man's Own fluctuating fortunes in the world.

Then he continues--

The moon has gone; the lilies on the lake, Whose beauty lingers in the memory, No more delight my gaze: they droop and fade; Deep is their sorrow for their absent lord.

The aged hermit of the grove thus expresses his feelings at the approaching loss of cakuntala--

My heart is touched with sadness at the thought "cakuntala must go to-day"; my throat Is choked with flow of tears repressed; my sight Is dimmed with pensiveness; but if the grief Of an old forest hermit is so great, How keen must be the pang a father feels When freshly parted from a cherished child!

Then calling on the trees to give her a kindly farewell, he exclaims--

The trees, the kinsmen of her forest home, Now to cakuntala give leave to go: They with the Kokila's melodious cry Their answer make.

Thereupon the following good wishes are uttered by voices in the air--

Thy journey be auspicious; may the breeze, Gentle and soothing, fan thy cheek; may lakes All bright with lily cups delight thine eye; The sunbeams' heat be cooled by shady trees; The dust beneath thy feet the pollen be Of lotuses.

The fifth act, in which cakuntala appears before her husband, is deeply moving. The king fails to recognise her, and, though treating her not unkindly, refuses to acknowledge her as his wife. As a last resource, cakuntala bethinks herself of the ring given her by her husband, but on discovering that it is lost, abandons hope. She is then borne off to heaven by celestial agency.

In the following interlude we see a fisherman dragged along by constables for having in his possession the royal signet-ring, which he professes to have found inside a fish. The king, however, causes him to be set free, rewarding him handsomely for his find. Recollection of his former love now returns to Dushyanta. While he is indulging in sorrow at his repudiation of cakuntala, Matali, Indra's charioteer, appears on the scene to ask the king's aid in vanquishing the demons.

In the last act Dushyanta is seen driving in Indra's car to Hemakuta, the mountain of the Gandharvas. Here he sees a young boy playing with a lion cub. Taking his hand, without knowing him to be his own son, he exclaims--

If now the touch of but a stranger's child Thus sends a thrill of joy through all my limbs, What transports must he waken in the soul Of that blest father from whose loins he sprang!

Soon after he finds and recognises cakuntala, with whom he is at length happily reunited.

Kalidasa's play has come down to us in two main recensions. The so-called Devanagari one, shorter and more concise, is probably the older and better. The more diffuse Bengal recension became known first through the translation of Sir William Jones.

Vikramorvaci, or "Urvaci won by Valour," is a play in five acts, belonging to the cla.s.s called Trotaka, which is described as representing events partly terrestrial and partly celestial, and as consisting of five, seven, eight, or nine acts. Its plot is briefly as follows. King Pururavas, hearing from nymphs that their companion, Urvaci, has been carried off by demons, goes to the rescue and brings her back on his car. He is enraptured by the beauty of the nymph, no less than she is captivated by her deliverer. Urvaci being summoned before the throne of Indra, the lovers are soon obliged to part.

In the second act Urvaci appears for a short time to the king as he disconsolately wanders in the garden. A letter, in which she had written a confession of her love, is discovered by the queen, who refuses to be pacified.

In the third act we learn that Urvaci had been acting before Indra in a play representing the betrothal of Lakshmi, and had, when asked on whom her heart was set, named Pururavas instead of Purushottama (i.e. Vishnu). She is consequently cursed by her teacher, Bharata, but is forgiven by Indra, who allows her to be united with Pururavas till the latter sees his offspring.

The fourth act is peculiar in being almost entirely lyrical. The lovers are wandering near Kailasa, the divine mountain, when Urvaci, in a fit of jealousy, enters the grove of k.u.mara, G.o.d of war, which is forbidden to all females. In consequence of Bharata's curse, she is instantly transformed into a creeper. The king, beside himself with grief at her loss, seeks her everywhere. He apostrophises various insects, birds, beasts, and even a mountain peak, to tell him where she is. At last he thinks he sees her in the mountain stream:--

The rippling wave is like her frown; the row Of tossing birds her girdle; streaks of foam Her flutt'ring garment as she speeds along; The current, her devious and stumbling gait: 'Tis she turned in her wrath into a stream.

Finally, under the influence of a magic stone, which has come into his possession, he clasps a creeper, which is transformed into Urvaci in his arms.

Between the fourth and fifth acts several years elapse. Then Pururavas, by accident, discovers his son Ayus, whom Urvaci had secretly borne, and had caused to be brought up in a hermitage. Urvaci must therefore return to heaven. Indra, however, in return for Pururavas' services against the demons, makes a new concession, and allows the nymph to remain with the king for good.

There are two recensions of this play also, one of them belonging to Southern India.

The doubts long entertained, on the ground of its inferiority and different character, as to whether Malavikagnimitra, or "Malavika and Agnimitra," is really the work of Kalidasa, who is mentioned in the prologue as the author, are hardly justified. The piece has been shown by Weber to agree pretty closely in thought and diction with the two other plays of the poet; and though certainly not equal to the latter in poetic merit, it possesses many beauties. The subject is not heroic or divine, the plot being derived from the ordinary palace life of Indian princes, and thus supplying a peculiarly good picture of the social conditions of the times. The hero is a historical king of the dynasty of the cungas, who reigned at Vidica (Bhilsa) in the second century B.C. The play describes the loves of this king Agnimitra and of Malavika, one of the attendants of the queen, who jealously keeps her out of the king's sight on account of her great beauty. The various endeavours of the king to see and converse with Malavika give rise to numerous little intrigues. In the course of these Agnimitra nowhere appears as a despot, but acts with much delicate consideration for the feelings of his spouses. It finally turns out that Malavika is by birth a princess, who had only come to be an attendant at Agnimitra's court through having fallen into the hands of robbers. There being now no objection to her union with the king, all ends happily.

While Kalidasa stands highest in poetical refinement, in tenderness, and depth of feeling, the author of the Mricchakatika, or "Clay Cart,"

is pre-eminent among Indian playwrights for the distinctively dramatic qualities of vigour, life, and action, no less than sharpness of characterisation, being thus allied in genius to Shakespeare. This play is also marked by originality and good sense. Attributed to a king named cudraka, who is panegyrised in the prologue, it is probably the work of a poet patronised by him, perhaps Dandin, as Professor Pischel thinks. In any case, it not improbably belongs to the sixth century. It is divided into ten acts, and belongs to the dramatic cla.s.s called prakarana. The name has little to do with the play, being derived from an unimportant episode of the sixth act. The scene is laid in Ujjayini and its neighbourhood. The number of characters appearing on the stage is very considerable. The chief among them are Charudatta, a Brahman merchant who has lost all his property by excessive liberality, and Vasantasena, a rich courtesan who loves the poor but n.o.ble Charudatta, and ultimately becomes his wife. The third act contains a humorous account of a burglary, in which stealing is treated as a fine art. In the fourth act there is a detailed description of the splendours of Vasantasena's palace. Though containing much exaggeration, it furnishes an interesting picture of the kind of luxury that prevailed in those days. Altogether this play abounds in comic situations, besides containing many serious scenes, some of which even border on the tragic.

To the first half of the seventh century belong the two dramas attributed to the famous King criharsha or Harshadeva, a patron of poets, whom we already know as Harshavardhana of Thanecar and Kanauj. Ratnavali, or "The Pearl Necklace," reflecting the court and harem life of the age, has many points of similarity with Kalidasa's Malavikagnimitra, by which, indeed, its plot was probably suggested. It is the story of the loves of Udayana, king of Vatsa, and of Sagarika, an attendant of his queen Vasavadatta. The heroine ultimately turns out to be Ratnavali, princess of Ceylon, who had found her way to Udayana's court after suffering shipwreck. The plot is unconnected with mythology, but is based on an historical or epic tradition, which recurs in a somewhat different form in Somadeva's Kathasaritsagara. As concerned with the second marriage of the king, it forms a sequel to the popular love-story of Vasavadatta. It is impossible to say whether the poet modified the main outlines of the traditional story, but the character of the magician who conjures up a vision of the G.o.ds and a conflagration, is his invention, as well as the incidents, which are of an entirely domestic nature. The real author was doubtless some poet resident at criharsha's court, possibly Bana, who also wrote a play ent.i.tled Parvatiparinaya.

Altogether, Ratnavali is an agreeable play, with well-drawn characters and many poetical beauties. Of the latter the following lines, in which the king describes the pale light in the east heralding the rise of the moon, may serve as a specimen:--

Our minds intent upon the festival, We saw not that the twilight pa.s.sed away: Behold, the east proclaims the lord of night Still hidden by the mountain where he rises, Even as a maiden by her pale face shows That in her inmost heart a lover dwells.

Another play of considerable merit attributed to criharsha is Nagananda. It is a sensational piece with a Buddhistic colouring, the hero being a Buddhist and Buddha being praised in the introductory benediction. For this reason its author was probably different from that of Ratnavali, and may have been Dhavaka, who, like Bana, is known to have lived at the court of criharsha.

The dramatist Bhavabhuti was a Brahman of the Taittiriya school of the Yajurveda and belonged, as we learn from his prologues, to Vidarbha (now Berar) in Southern India. He knew the city of Ujjayini well, and probably spent at least a part of his life there. His patron was King Yacovarman of Kanyakubja (Kanauj), who ruled during the first half of the eighth century.

Three plays by this poet, all abounding in poetic beauties, have come down to us. They contrast in two or three respects with the works of the earlier dramatists. The absence of the character of the jester is characteristic of them, the comic and witty element entering into them only to a slight extent. While other Indian poets dwell on the delicate and mild beauties of Nature, Bhavabhuti loves to depict her grand and sublime aspects, doubtless owing to the influence on his mind of the southern mountains of his native land. He is, moreover, skilful not only in drawing characters inspired by tender and n.o.ble sentiment, but in giving effective expression to depth and force of pa.s.sion.

The best known and most popular of Bhavabhuti's plays is Malati-madhava, a prakarana in ten acts. The scene is laid in Ujjayini, and the subject is the love-story of Malati, daughter of a minister of the country, and Madhava, a young scholar studying in the city, and son of the minister of another state. Skilfully interwoven with this main story are the fortunes of Makaranda, a friend of Madhava, and Madayantika, a sister of the king's favourite. Malati and Madhava meet and fall in love; but the king has determined that the heroine shall marry his favourite, whom she detests. This plan is frustrated by Makaranda, who, personating Malati, goes through the wedding ceremony with the bridegroom. The lovers, aided in their projects by two amiable Buddhist nuns, are finally united. The piece is a sort of Indian Romeo and Juliet with a happy ending, the part played by the nun Kamandaki being a.n.a.logous to that of Friar Laurence in Shakespeare's drama. The contrast produced by scenes of tender love, and the horrible doings of the priestess of the dread G.o.ddess Durga, is certainly effective, but perhaps too violent. The use made of swoons, from which the recovery is, however, very rapid, is rather too common in this play.

The ninth act contains several fine pa.s.sages describing the scenery of the Vindhya range. The following is a translation of one of them:--

This mountain with its towering rocks delights The eye: its peaks grow dark with gathering clouds; Its groves are thronged with peac.o.c.ks eloquent In joy; the trees upon its slopes are bright With birds that flit about their nests; the caves Reverberate the growl of bears; the scent Of incense-trees is wafted, sharp and cool, From branches broken off by elephants.

The other two dramas of Bhavabhuti represent the fortunes of the same national hero, Rama. The plot of the Mahavira-charita, or "The Fortunes of the Great Hero," varies but slightly from the story told in the Ramayana. The play, which is divided into seven acts and is crowded with characters, concludes with the coronation of Rama. The last act ill.u.s.trates well how much is left to the imagination of the spectator. It represents the journey of Rama in an aerial car from Ceylon all the way to Ayodhya (Oudh) in Northern India, the scenes traversed being described by one of the company.

The Uttara-rama-charita, or "The Later Fortunes of Rama," is a romantic piece containing many fine pa.s.sages. Owing to lack of action, however, it is rather a dramatic poem than a play. The description of the tender love of Rama and Sita, purified by sorrow, exhibits more genuine pathos than appears perhaps in any other Indian drama. The play begins with the banishment of Sita and ends with her restoration, after twelve years of grievous solitude, to the throne of Ayodhya amid popular acclamations. Her two sons, born after her banishment and reared in the wilderness by the sage Valmiki, without any knowledge of their royal descent, furnish a striking parallel to the two princes Guiderius and Arviragus who are brought up by the hermit Belarius in Shakespeare's Cymbeline. The scene in which their meeting with their father Rama is described reaches a high degree of poetic merit.

Among the works of other dramatists, Vicakhadatta's Mudra-rakshasa, or "Rakshasa and the Seal," deserves special mention because of its unique character. For, unlike all the other dramas. .h.i.therto described, it is a play of political intrigue, composed, moreover, with much dramatic talent, being full of life, action, and sustained interest. Nothing more definite can be said as to its date than that it was probably written not later than about 800 A.D. The action of the piece takes place in the time of Chandragupta, who, soon after Alexander's invasion of India, founded a new dynasty at Pataliputra by deposing the last king of the Nanda line. Rakshasa, the minister of the latter, refusing to recognise the usurper, endeavours to be avenged on him for the ruin of his late master. The plot turns on the efforts of the Brahman Chanakya, the minister of Chandragupta, to win over the n.o.ble Rakshasa to his master's cause. In this he is ultimately successful.