The Little Clay Cart by Sudraka (best classic romance novels TXT) 📕
But a spirit so powerful as that of King Shudraka could not be confined within the strait-jacket of the minute, and sometimes puerile, rules of the technical works. In the very title of the drama, he has disregarded the rule[11] that the name of a drama of invention should be formed by compounding the names of heroine and hero.[12] Again, the books prescribe[13] that the hero shall appear in every act; yet Charudatta does not appear in acts ii., iv., vi., and viii. And further, various characters, Vasantasena, Maitreya, the courtier, and others, have vastly gained because they do not conform too closely to the technical definitions.
The characters of The Little Clay Cart are living men and women. Even when the type makes no strong appeal to Western minds, as in the case of Charudatta, the character lives, in a sense in which Dushyanta[14] or even Rama[15] can
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Headsmen. So be it.
A voice behind the scenes. My father! oh, my father! [Chārudatta hears the words, and mournfully repeats his request.]
Headsmen. Citizens, make way a moment. Let the noble Chārudatta look upon the face of his son. [Turning to the back of the stage.] This way, sir! Come on, little boy!
P. 261.15]
[Enter Maitreya, with Rohasena.]
Maitreya. Make haste, my boy, make haste! Your father is being led to his death.
Rohasena. My father! oh, my father!
Maitreya. Oh, my friend! Where must I behold you now?
Chārudatta. [Perceives his son and his friend.] Alas, my son! Alas, Maitreya! [Mournfully.] Ah, woe is me!
Through all my sojourn dread;
This vessel[86] small will not contain
The water for the dead.17
What may I give my son? [He looks at himself, and perceives the sacrificial cord.] Ah, this at least is mine.
Is unadorned with pearls and gold;
Yet, girt therewith, they sacrifice
To gods above and fathers[87] old.18
[He gives Rohasena the cord.]
Goha. Come, Chārudatta! Come, man!
Ahīnta. Man, do you name the noble Chārudatta's name, and forget the title? Remember:
Roving as free as a yet unbroken colt,
Fate wanders on her unrestricted way.19
And again:
Shall our reproaches bow his head?
Although eclipse may seize the moon,
We worship while it seems but dead.20
Rohasena. Oh, headsmen, where are you leading my father?
[161.10. S.
Chārudatta. My darling,
The oleander-wreath;
Upon my shoulder I must bear
The stake, and in my heart the care
Of near-approaching death.
I go to-day to meet a dastard's ending,
A victim, at the fatal altar bending.21
Goha. My boy,
Though born of headsman race;
Thy father's life who mar,
These, these are headsmen base.22
Rohasena. Then why do you murder my father?
Goha. Bless you, 't is the king's orders must bear the blame, not we.
Rohasena. Kill me, and let father go free.
Goha. Bless you, may you live long for saying that!
Chārudatta. [Tearfully embracing his son.]
To rich and poor alike is given;
Than sandal better, or than balm,
To soothe the heart and give it calm.23
The oleander-wreath,
Upon my shoulder I must bear
The stake, and in my heart the care
Of near-approaching death.
I go to-day to meet a dastard's ending,
A victim, at the fatal altar bending.(21)
[He looks about. Aside.]
They stand afar, whom once I counted friends:
Even foes have smiles(16)
P. 264.7]
Maitreya. My good men, let my dear friend Chārudatta go free, and kill me instead.
Chārudatta. Heaven forbid! [He looks about. Aside.] Now I understand.
But friends prove faithless when good fortune ends.(16)
[Aloud.]
From half-shut windows peering, thus lament,
"Alas for Chārudatta! Woe the day!"
And pity-streaming eyes on me are bent.(11)
Goha.
Why gaze upon the good man so,
When shame his living hope lays low?
The cord was broken at the well,
And down the golden pitcher fell.24
Chārudatta. [Mournfully.]
Betraying teeth more bright than moonbeams fair,
My soul with heaven's nectar once was fed.
How can I, helpless, taste that poison dread,
To drink shame's poisoned cup how can I bear?(13)
Ahīnta. Proclaim the sentence again, man.[Goha does so.]
Chārud.
Till such an ending seem not loss, but gain!
Yet o'er my heart there creeps a saddening pain,
To hear them cry abroad "You murdered her!"25
[162.18. S.
[Enter Sthāvaraka, fettered, in the palace tower.]
Sthāvaraka. [After listening to the proclamation. In distress.] What! the innocent Chārudatta is being put to death? And my master has thrown me into chains! Well, I must shout to them.—Listen, good gentlemen, listen! It was I, wretch that I am, who carried Vasantasenā to the old garden Pushpakaranda, because she mistook my bullock-cart for another. And then my master, Sansthānaka, found that she would not love him, and it was he, not this gentleman, who murdered her by strangling.—But they are so far away that no one hears me. What shall I do? Shall I cast myself down? [He reflects.] If I do, then the noble Chārudatta will not be put to death. Yes, through this broken window I will throw myself down from the palace tower. Better that I should meet my end, than that the noble Chārudatta should perish, this tree of life for noble youths. And if I die in such a cause, I have attained heaven. [He throws himself down.] Wonderful! I did not meet my end, and my fetters are broken. So I will follow the sound of the headsmen's voices. [He discovers the headsmen, and hastens forward.] Headsmen, headsmen, make way!
Headsmen. For whom shall we make way?
Sthāvaraka. Listen, good gentlemen, listen! It was I, wretch that I am, who carried Vasantasenā to the old garden Pushpakaranda, because she mistook my bullock-cart for another. And then my master, Sansthānaka, found that she would not love him, and it was he, not this gentleman, who murdered her by strangling.
Chārudatta. Thank heaven!
When in Time's snare I struggle all forlorn,
A streaming cloud above the rainless corn?26
Listen! do you hear what I say?
My death were welcome, coming free from shame,
As were a son, new-born to bear my name.27
And again:
Stained me with sin wherewith himself was mated,
An arrow, with most deadly poison baited.28
Headsmen. Are you telling the truth, Sthāvaraka?
P. 266.13]
Sthāvaraka. I am. And to keep me from telling anybody, he cast me into chains, and imprisoned me in the tower of his palace.
[Enter Sansthānaka.]
Sansthānaka. [Gleefully.]
Of meat and herbs and shoup and fish;
I tried at home my tongue to tickle
With rice-cakes plain, and rice with treacle.29
[He listens.] The headsmen's voices! They shound like a broken brass cymbal. I hear the music of the fatal drum and the kettle-drums, and sho I shuppose that that poor man, Chārudatta, is being led to the place of execution. I musht go and shee it. It is a great delight to shee my enemy die. Beshides, I 've heard that a man who shees his enemy being killed, is sure not to have shore eyes in his next birth. I acted like a worm that had crept into the knot of a lotush-root. I looked for a hole to crawl out at, and brought about the death of thish poor man, Chārudatta. Now I 'll climb up the tower of my own palace, and have a look at my own heroic deeds. [He does so and looks about.] Wonderful what a crowd there is, to shee that poor man led to his death! What would it be when an arishtocrat, a big man like me, was being led to his death? [He gazes.] Look! There he goes toward the shouth, adorned like a young shteer. But why was the proclamation made near my palace tower, and why was it shtopped? [He looks about.] Why, my shlave Sthāvaraka is gone, too. I hope he has n't run away and betrayed the shecret. I musht go and look for him. [He descends and approaches the crowd.]
Sthāvaraka. [Discovers him.] There he comes, good masters!
Headsmen.
Be silent, and say nothing more!
Here comes a mad bull through the press,
Whose horns are sharp with wickedness.30
[164.16. S.
Sansthānaka. Come, come, make way! [He approaches.] Sthāvaraka, my little shon, my shlave, come, let 's go home.
Sthāvaraka. You scoundrel! Are you not content with the murder of Vasantasenā? Must you try now to murder the noble Chārudatta, that tree of life to all who loved him?
Sansthānaka. I am beautiful as a pot of jewels. I kill no woman!
Bystanders. Oho! you murdered her, not the noble Chārudatta.
Sansthānaka. Who shays that?
Bystanders. [Pointing to Sthāvaraka.] This honest man.
Sansthānaka. [Fearfully. Aside.] Merciful heavens! Why did n't I chain that shlave Sthāvaraka fasht? Why, he was a witnessh of my crime. [He reflects.] I 'll do it thish way. [Aloud.] Lies, lies, good gentlemen. Why, I caught the shlave shtealing gold, and I pounded him, and murdered him, and put him in chains. He hates me. What he shays can't be true. [He secretly hands Sthāvaraka a bracelet, and whispers.] Sthāvaraka, my little shon, my shlave, take thish and shay shomething different.
Sthāvaraka. [Takes it.] Look, gentlemen, look! Why, he is trying to bribe me with gold.
Sansthānaka. [Snatches the bracelet from him.] That 's the gold that I put him in chains for. [Angrily.] Look here, headsmen! I put him in charge of my gold-chest, and when he turned thief, I murdered him and pounded him. If you don't believe it, jusht look at his back.
Headsmen. [Doing so.] Yes, yes. When a servant is branded that way, no wonder he tells tales.
Sthāvaraka. A curse on slavery! A slave convinces nobody. [Mournfully.] Noble Chārudatta, I have no further power. [He falls at Chārudatta's feet.]
Chārudatta. [Mournfully.]
Brave friend who lendest such unselfish aid!
Thy greatest toil to save me was in vain,
For fate would not. Thy duty now is paid.31
P. 270.15]
Headsmen. Beat your servant, master, and drive him away.
Sansthānaka. Out of the way, you! [He drives Sthāvaraka away.] Come, headsmen, what are you waiting for? Kill him.
Headsmen. Kill him yourself, if you are in a hurry.
Rohasena. Oh, headsmen, kill me and let father go free.
Sansthānaka. Yesh, shon and father, kill them both.
Chārudatta. This fool might do anything. Go, my son, to your mother.
Rohasena. And what should I do then?
Chārud.
No moment, dear, delay;
Lest of thy father's fault thou reap the wage,
And tread the selfsame way.32
And you, my friend, go with him.
Maitreya. Oh, my friend, have you so known me as to think that I can live without you?
Chārudatta. Not so, my friend. Your life is your own. You may not throw it away.
Maitreya. [Aside.] True. And yet I cannot live apart from my friend. And so, when I have taken the boy to his mother, I will follow my friend even in death. [Aloud.] Yes, my friend, I will take him to her at once. [He embraces Chārudatta, then falls at his feet. Rohasena does the same, weeping.]
Sansthānaka. Look here! Did n't I tell you to kill Chārudatta, and his shon, too? [At this, Chārudatta betrays fear.]
Headsmen. We have n't any orders from the king to kill Chārudatta, and his son, too.
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