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Act Two SCENE 1
Park of the King's palace in Pratisthana. — In the background the wings of a great building, near it the gates of the park, near the bounds of the park an arbour and a small artificial hill to the side. Manavaka enters.
Houp! Houp! I feel like a Brahmin who has had an invitation to dinner; he thinks dinner, talks dinner, looks dinner, his very sneeze has the music of the dinner-bell in it. I am simply bursting with the King's secret. I shall never manage to hold my tongue in that crowd. Solitude's my only safety. So until my friend gets up from the session of affairs, I will wait for him in this precinct of the House of Terraces. Nipunika enters.
I am bidden by my lady the King's daughter of Kashi, "Nipunika, since my lord came back from doing homage to the Sun, he has had no heart for anything. So just go and learn from his dear friend, the noble Manavaka, what is disturbing his mind." Well and good! but how shall I overreach that rogue — a Brahmin he calls himself, with the murrain to him! But there! thank Heaven, he can't keep a secret long; 'tis like a dewdrop on a rare blade of grass. Well, I must hunt him out. O! there stands the noble Manavaka, silent and sad like a monkey in a picture. I will accost him. (approaching) Salutation to the noble Manavaka!
Blessing to your ladyship! (aside) Ugh, the very sight of this little rogue of a tiring-woman makes the secret jump at my Page –– 926 throat. I shall burst! I shall split! Nipunika, why have you left the singing lesson and where are you off to?
To see my lord the King, by my lady's orders.
What are her orders?
Noble sir, this is the Queen's message. "My lord has always been kind and indulgent to me, so that I have become a stranger to grief. He never before disregarded my sorrow" —
How? how? has my friend offended her in any way?
Offended? Why, he addressed my lady by the name of a girl for whom he is pining.
What, he has let out his own secret ? Then why am I agonizing here in vain? (aloud) He called her Urvasie?
Yes. Noble Manavaka, who is that Urvasie ?
Urvasie is the name of a certain Apsara. The sight of her has sent the King mad. He is not only tormenting the life out of my lady, but out of me too with his aversion to everything but moaning.
So! I have stormed the citadel of my master's secret. (Aloud) What am I to say to the Queen? Page –– 927
Nipunika, tell my lady with my humble regards that I am endeavouring my best to divert my friend from this mirage and I will not see her ladyship till it is done.
As your honour commands. She goes.
Victory, victory to the King! The Sun in Heaven for ever labours; wide His beams dispel the darkness to the verge Of all this brilliant world. The King too toils, Rescuing from night and misery and crime His people. Equal power to these is given And labour, the King on earth, the Sun in Heaven. The brilliant Sun in Heaven rests not from toil;
Only at high noon in the middle cusp
Here's my dear friend risen from the session. I will join him. He goes out, then re-enters with Pururavas.
No sooner seen than in my heart she leaped.
Alas the poor Page –– 928
Hast thou kept thy trust —
Ah! that daughter of a slave
What now? Silence?
Why, sir,
'Tis well. O how shall I beguile desire ?
Let's to the kitchen.
Why, what's there?
What's there?
For you whose heart is in your stomach. I Page –– 929 Upon what I shall hardly win.
Not win ?
What comfort is in that?
When she has seen you,
O your affection
You make me
Who could with words describe each perfect limb Of that celestial whole ? Take her in brief, O friend, for she is ornament's ornament, And jewels cannot make her beautiful. They from her body get their grace. And when You search the universe for similes, Her greater beauty drives you to express Fair things by her, not her by lesser fairness: So she is perfection's model.
No wonder then, Page –– 930
Graciously down his own particular gullet.
When love grows large with yearning,
Oh God, my dinner! There's no help.
(aloud) This way.
O epithet
May like division bless your yearning, sir.
Enter thou first. O! I was blindly sanguine, By refuge in this flowery solitude Who thought to heal my pain. As well might swimmer Hurled onward in a river's violent hands Oppose that roaring tide, as I make speed Hither for my relief.
And wherefore so? Page –– 931
Was passion not enough to torture me, Still racking the resistless mind with thoughts Of unattainable delight? But I Must add the mango-trees' soft opening buds, And hurt myself with pallid drifting leaves, And with the busy zephyr wound my soul.
Be not so full of grief. For Love himself
I seize upon thy word, — the Brahmin's speech
See what a floral
Friend, I do.
This arbour green Page –– 932 Upon a slab of costly stone, prepares With its own hands your cushioned honours. Take The courtesy.
As you will.
Here sit at ease.
O no, mine eyes
Oh rare! when Indra for Ahalya pined A cheapjack was his counsellor; you as lucky Have me for your ally. Mad all! mad all!
Not so! affection edges so the wit,
Good, I will cogitate. Disturb me not
Her face of perfect moonlight Page –– 933
Is all too heavenly for my lips. How canst thou then
He waits hopefully. There enter in the
Will you not even tell me where we go ?
Sister, when I upon the Peak of Gold
To seek the side
Even so shameless is your sister's mind.
Whom did you send before, what messenger
My heart.
Sister; do not be rash.
O yet think well,
Love sends me. Love Page –– 934
To that I have no answer.
Then take me to him soon.
Fear not that.
Oh true! my heart forgot.
Look, sister! For in Ganges' gliding waves
All Eden to an earthly spot is bound. But where is he who surely will commiserate A pining heart ?
This park which seems one country Page –– 935 Waiting for moonlight.
How beautiful he is —
'Tis true. Come, we will go to him.
I will not yet.
You'll do your will always.
Courage! your difficult mistress may be caught,
O who is she, that happy she
Why do you mock the ways of men
I dare not, sweet, I fear Page –– 936 |
