The Little Clay Cart. Sudraka

But my lord and master Struts fast and faster, Like a woodcock in the wood.19

      Courtier. Vasantasenā! Stop, stop! Why should you tremble, should you flee, A-quiver like the plantain tree? Your garment's border, red and fair, Is all a-shiver in the air; Now and again, a lotus-bud Falls to the ground, as red as blood. A red realgar[32] vein you seem, Whence, smitten, drops of crimson stream.20

      Sansthānaka. Shtop. Vasantasenā, shtop! You wake my passion, my desire, my love; You drive away my shleep in bed at night; Both fear and terror sheem your heart to move; You trip and shtumble in your headlong flight. But Rāvana forced Kuntī[33] to his will; Jusht sho shall I enjoy you to the fill.21

      Courtier. Ah, Vasantasenā, Why should your fleeter flight Outstrip my flying feet? Why, like a snake in fright Before the bird-king's might, Thus seek to flee, my sweet? Could I not catch the storm-wind in his flight? Yet would not seize upon you, though I might.22

      P. 19.9]

      Sansthānaka. Lishten to me, shir! Thish whip of robber Love, thish dancing-girl, Eater of fish, deshtroyer of her kin, Thish shnubnose, shtubborn, love-box, courtezan, Thish clothes-line, wanton creature, maid of sin— I gave her ten shweet names, and shtill She will not bend her to my will.23

      Courtier.

      As courtier's fingers strike the lute's tense string,

       The dancing ear-ring smites your wounded cheek.

       Why should you flee, with dreadful terror weak,

       As flees the crane when heaven's thunders ring?24

      Sansth.

      Your jingling gems, girl, clink like anything;

       Like Draupadī you flee, when Rāma kisshed her.

       I'll sheize you quick, as once the monkey-king

       Sheized Subhadrā, Vishvāvasu's shweet shishter.25

      Servant.

      He's the royal protégé;

       Do whatever he may say.

       And you shall have good fish and flesh to eat.

       For when dogs have all the fish

       And the flesh that they can wish,

       Even carrion seems to them no longer sweet.26

      Courtier. Mistress Vasantasenā, The girdle drooping low upon your hips Flashes as brilliant as the shining stars; The wondrous terror of your fleeing mars Your charms; for red realgar, loosened, slips As on an imaged god, from cheek and lips.27

      Sansth.

      We're chasing you with all our main and might,

       As dogs a jackal when they hunt and find it;

       But you are quick and nimble in your flight,

       And shteal my heart with all the roots that bind it.28

      [11.23. S.

      Vasantasenā. Pallavaka! Parabhritikā!

      Sansthānaka. Mashter! a man! a man!

      Courtier. Don't be a coward.

      Vasantasenā. Mādhavikā! Mādhavikā!

      Courtier. [Laughing.] Fool! She is calling her servants.

      Sansthānaka. Mashter! Is she calling a woman?

      Courtier. Why, of course.

      Sansthānaka. Women! I kill hundreds of 'em. I'm a brave man.

      Vasantasenā. [Seeing that no one answers.] Alas, how comes it that my very servants have fallen away from me? I shall have to defend myself by mother-wit.

      Courtier. Don't stop the search.

      Sansthānaka. Shqueal, Vasantasenā, shqueal for your cuckoo Parabhritikā, or for your blosshom Pallavaka or for all the month of May! Who's going to save you when I'm chasing you?

      Why shpeak of Bhīmasena? Or the shon

       Of Jamadagni, that thrice-mighty one?

       The ten-necked ogre? Shon of Kuntī fair?

       Jusht look at me! My fingers in your hair,

       Jusht like Duhshāsana, I'll tear, and tear.29

      Look, look!

      My shword is sharp; good-by, poor head!

       Let's chop it off, or kill you dead.

       Then do not try my wrath to shun;

       When you musht die, your life is done.30

      Vasantasenā. Sir, I am a weak woman.

      Courtier. That is why you are still alive.

      Sansthānaka. That is why you're not murdered.

      Vasantasenā. [Aside.] Oh! his very courtesy frightens me. Come, I will try this. [Aloud.] Sir, what do you expect from this pursuit? my jewels?

      P. 24.7]

      Courtier. Heaven forbid! A garden creeper, mistress Vasantasenā, should not be robbed of its blossoms. Say no more about the jewels.

      Vasantasenā. What is then your desire?

      Sansthānaka. I'm a man, a big man, a regular Vāsudeva.[34] You musht love me.

      Vasantasenā. [Indignantly.] Heavens! You weary me. Come, leave me! Your words are an insult.

      Sansthānaka. [Laughing and clapping his hands.] Look, mashter, look! The courtezan's daughter is mighty affectionate with me, isn't she? Here she says "Come on! Heavens, you're weary. You're tired!" No, I haven't been walking to another village or another city. No, little mishtress, I shwear by the gentleman's head, I shwear by my own feet! It's only by chasing about at your heels that I've grown tired and weary.

      Courtier. [Aside.] What! is it possible that the idiot does not understand when she says "You weary me"? [Aloud.] Vasantasenā, your words have no place in the dwelling of a courtezan,

      Which, as you know, is friend to every youth;

       Remember, you are common as the flower

       That grows beside the road; in bitter truth,

       Your body has its price; your beauty's dower

       Is his, who pays the market's current rate:

       Then serve the man you love, and him you hate.31

      And again:

      The wisest Brahman and the meanest fool

       Bathe in the selfsame pool;

       Beneath the peacock, flowering plants bend low,

       No less beneath the crow;

       The Brahman, warrior, merchant, sail along

       With all the vulgar throng.

       You are the pool, the flowering plant, the boat;

       And on your beauty every man may dote.32

      [13.22 S.

      Vasantasenā. Yet true love would be won by virtue, not violence.

      Sansthānaka. But, mashter, ever since the shlave-wench went into the park where Kāma's[35] temple shtands, she has been in love with a poor man, with Chārudatta, and she doesn't love me any more. His house is to the left. Look out and don't let her shlip out of our hands.

      Courtier. [Aside.] Poor fool, he has said the very thing he should have concealed. So Vasantasenā is in love with Chārudatta? The proverb is right. Pearl suits with pearl. Well, I have had enough