The Little Clay Cart Part 29

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; a.s.suming 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 l.u.s.tful G.o.d, 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?"