The Collected Plays. Rabindranath Tagore

Very well, my child. He may remain if he is a friend of yours.

      MADHAV (Whispering into Amal's ear) My child, the King loves you. He is coming himself. Beg for a gift from him. You know our humble circumstances.

      AMAL. Don't you worry, Uncle.—I've made up my mind about it.

      MADHAV. What is it, my child?

      AMAL. I shall ask him to make me one of his postmen that I may wander far and wide, delivering his message from door to door.

      MADHAV (Slapping his forehead) Alas, is that all?

      AMAL. What'll be our offerings to the King, Uncle, when he comes?

      HERALD. He has commanded puffed rice.

      AMAL. Puffed rice! Say, Headman, you're right. You said so. You knew all we didn't.

      HEADMAN. If you send word to my house then I could manage for the King's advent really nice—

      PHYSICIAN. No need at all. Now be quiet all of you. Sleep is coming over him. I'll sit by his pillow; he's dropping into slumber. Blow out the oil-lamp. Only let the star-light stream in. Hush, he slumbers.

      MADHAV (Addressing Gaffer) What are you standing there for like a statue, folding your palms.—I am nervous.—Say, are they good omens? Why are they darkening the room? How will star-light help?

      GAFFER. Silence, unbeliever.

      (Sudha enters)

      SUDHA. Amal!

      PHYSICIAN. He's asleep.

      SUDHA. I have some flowers for him. Mayn't I give them into his own hand?

      PHYSICIAN. Yes, you may.

      SUDHA. When will he be awake?

      PHYSICIAN. Directly the King comes and calls him.

      SUDHA. Will you whisper a word for me in his ear?

      PHYSICIAN. What shall I say?

      SUDHA. Tell him Sudha has not forgotten him.

      CURTAIN

      CHITRA

       Table of Contents

       Preface

       The Characters

       Scene I

       Scene II

       Scene III

       Scene IV

       Scene V

       Scene VI

       Scene VII

       Scene VIII

       Scene IX

      PREFACE

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      This lyrical drama was written about twenty-five years ago. It is based on the following story from the Mahabharata.

      In the course of his wanderings, in fulfilment of a vow of penance, Arjuna came to Manipur. There he saw Chitrangada, the beautiful daughter of Chitravahana, the king of the country. Smitten with her charms, he asked the king for the hand of his daughter in marriage. Chitravahana asked him who he was, and learning that he was Arjuna the Pandara, told him that Prabhanjana, one of his ancestors in the kingly line of Manipur, had long been childless. In order to obtain an heir, he performed severe penances. Pleased with these austerities, the god Shiva gave him this boon, that he and his successors should each have one child. It so happened that the promised child had invariably been a son. He, Chitravahana, was the first to have only a daughter Chitrangada to perpetuate the race. He had, therefore, always treated her as a son and had made her his heir.

      Continuing, the king said:

      "The one son that will be born to her must be the perpetuator of my race. That son will be the price that I shall demand for this marriage. You can take her, if you like, on this condition."

      Arjuna promised and took Chitrangada to wife, and lived in her father's capital for three years. When a son was born to them, he embraced her with affection, and taking leave of her and her father, set out again on his travels.

THE CHARACTERS

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      GODS:

       MADANA (Eros).

       VASANTA (Lycoris).

      MORTALS:

       CHITRA, daughter of the King of Manipur.

       ARJUNA, a prince of the house of the Kurus. He is of the Kshatriya or "warrior caste," and during the action is living as a Hermit retired in the forest.

      VILLAGERS from an outlying district of Manipur.

      NOTE.—The dramatic poem "Chitra" has been performed in India without scenery—the actors being surrounded by the audience. Proposals for its production here having been made to him, he went through this translation and provided stage directions, but wished these omitted if it were printed as a book.

SCENE I

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      CHITRA. Art thou the god with the five darts, the Lord of Love?

      MADANA. I am he who was the first born in the heart of the Creator. I bind in bonds of pain and bliss the lives of men and women!

      CHITRA. I know, I know what that pain is and those bonds.—And who art thou, my lord?

      VASANTA. I am his friend—Vasanta—the King of the Seasons. Death and decrepitude would wear the world to the bone but that I follow them and constantly attack them. I am Eternal Youth.

      CHITRA. I bow to thee, Lord Vasanta.

      MADANA. But what stern vow is thine, fair stranger? Why dost thou wither thy fresh youth with penance and mortification? Such a sacrifice is not fit for the worship of love. Who art thou and what is thy prayer?

      CHITRA. I am Chitra, the daughter of the kingly house of Manipur. With godlike grace Lord Shiva promised to my royal grandsire an unbroken line of male descent. Nevertheless, the divine word proved powerless to change the spark of life in my mother's womb —so invincible was my nature, woman though I be.

      MADANA. I know, that is why thy father brings thee up as his son. He has taught thee the use of the bow and all the duties of a king.

      CHITRA. Yes, that is why I am dressed in man's attire and have left