The Little Clay Cart Part 7

And yet again:

Ah, Poverty, I pity thee, that so To me thou clingest, as thy dearest friend; When my poor life has met its woeful end, I sadly wonder, whither thou wilt go. 38

_Maitreya._ [_Betraying his embarra.s.sment._] Well, comrade, if I must go, at least let Radanika go with me, to keep me company.

_Charudatta._ Radanika, you are to accompany Maitreya.

_Radanika._ Yes, sir.

_Maitreya_. Mistress Radanika, do you take the offering and the candle while I open the side-door. [_He does so._]

_Vasantasena._ It seems as if the door took pity on me and opened of itself. I will lose no time, but enter. [_She looks in._] What? a candle? Oh dear, oh dear! [_She puts it out with her skirt and enters._]

_Charudatta._ What was that, Maitreya?

_Maitreya._ I opened the side-door and the wind came through all in a lump and blew out the candle. Suppose you go out by the side-door, Radanika, and I will follow as soon as I have gone into the courtyard and lighted the candle again. [_Exit._

_Sansthanaka._ Mashter! mashter! I'm looking for Vasantasena.

_Courtier._ Keep on looking, keep on looking!

_Sansthanaka._ [_Does so._] Mashter! mashter! I've caught her! I've caught her!

_Courtier._ Idiot, you've caught me.

_Sansthanaka._ You shtand right here, mashter, and shtay where you're put. [_He renews the search and seizes the servant._] Mashter!

mashter! I've caught her! I've caught her!

P. 31.3]

_Servant._ Master, you've caught me, your servant.

_Sansthanaka._ Mashter here, shervant here! Mashter, shervant; shervant, mashter. Now shtay where you're put, both of you. [_He renews the search and seizes Radanika by the hair._] Mashter! mashter!

Thish time I've caught her! I've caught Vasantasena!

Through the black night she fled, fled she; Her garland's shmell betrayed her; Like Chanakya caught Draupadi, I caught her hair and shtayed her. 39

_Courtier._

Ah, proud to be so young, so fair!

Too high thy love must not aspire; For now thy blossom-fragrant hair, That merits richest gems and rare, Serves but to drag thee through the mire. 40

_Sansth._

I've got your head, girl, got it tight, By the hair, the locks, and the curls, too.

Now shcream, shqueak, shqueal with all your might "Shiva! Ishvara! Shankara! Shambhu!"[37] 41

_Radanika._ [_In terror._] Oh, sirs, what does this mean?

_Courtier._ You jacka.s.s! It's another voice.

_Sansthanaka._ Mashter, the wench has changed her voice, the way a cat changes her voice, when she wants shome cream of curdled milk.

_Courtier._ Changed her voice? Strange! Yet why so strange?

She trod the stage; she learned the arts; She studied to deceive our hearts; And now she practises her parts. 42

[_Enter Maitreya._]

_Maitreya._ Look! In the gentle evening breeze the flame of the candle is fluttering like the heart of a goat that goes to the altar.

[_He approaches and discovers Radanika._] Mistress Radanika!

[17.17. S.

_Sansthanaka._ Mashter, mashter! A man! a man!

_Maitreya._ This is right, this is perfectly right, that strangers should force their way into the house, just because Charudatta is poor.

_Radanika._ Oh, Maitreya, see how they insult me.

_Maitreya._ What! insult you? No, they are insulting us.

_Radanika._ Very well. They are insulting you, then.

_Maitreya._ But they aren't using violence?

_Radanika._ Yes, yes!

_Maitreya._ Really?

_Radanika._ Really.

_Maitreya._ [_Raising his staff angrily._] No, sir! Man, a dog will show his teeth in his own kennel, and I am a Brahman! My staff is crooked as my fortunes, but it can still split a dry bamboo or a rascal's pate.

_Courtier._ Have mercy, O great Brahman, have mercy.

_Maitreya._ [_Discovers the courtier._] He is not the sinner. [_Discovers Sansthanaka._] Ah, here is the sinner. Well, you brother-in-law to the king, Sansthanaka, you scoundrel, you coward, this is perfectly proper, isn't it? Charudatta the good is a poor man now--true, but are not his virtues an ornament to Ujjayini? And so men break into his house and insult his servants!

Insult not him, laid low by poverty; For none are counted poor by mighty fate: Yet he who falls from virtue's high estate, Though he be rich, no man is poor as he. 43

_Courtier._ [_Betraying his embarra.s.sment._] Have mercy, O great Brahman, have mercy. We intended no insolence; we merely mistook this lady for another. For

We sought an amorous maiden,

_Maitreya._ What! this one?

_Courtier._ Heaven forbid!