One Hundred Years Gentlemen We Shall Walk the Earth Again
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The Little Clay Cart, by Shudraka, tr. Arthur William Ryder, [1905], at sacred-texts.com
p. one
THE LITTLE Clay CART
PROLOGUE
Benediction upon the audience
HIS bended knees the knotted girdle holds,
Fashioned by doubling of a ophidian's folds;
His sensive organs, then he checks his breath,
Are numbed, till consciousness seems sunk in death;
Within himself, with eye of truth, he sees
The All-soul, gratuitous from all activities.
May His, may Shiva'southward meditation be
Your strong defence; on the Great Cocky thinks he,
Knowing full well the world'southward vacuity. ane
And again:
May Shiva'southward cervix shield you from every impairment,
That seems a threatening thunder-cloud, whereon,
Bright as the lightning-flash, lies Gauri's arm. 2
Stage-director. Enough of this tedious work, which fritters away the interest of the audition! Let me then most reverently salute the honorable gentlemen, and denote our intention to produce a drama chosen "The Picayune Clay Cart." Its author was a man
Who vied with elephants in lordly grace;
Whose eyes were those of the chakora bird
That feeds on moonbeams; glorious his face
Every bit the full moon; his person, all have heard,
Was birthday lovely. First in worth
Among the twice-born was this poet, known
Equally Shūdraka far over all the globe,—
His virtue's depth unfathomed and alone. iii
p. 2
And once more:
The Sāmaveda, the Rigveda besides,
The science mathematical, he knew;
The arts wherein off-white courtezans excel,
And all the lore of elephants every bit well.
Through Shiva's grace, his eye was never dim;
He saw his son a king in identify of him.
The difficult horse-sacrifice he tried
Successfully; entered the fiery tide,
One hundred years and ten days old, and died. 4
And yet over again:
Eager for boxing; sloth'due south adamant foe;
Of scholars chief, who to the Veda cling;
Rich in the riches that ascetics know;
Glad, gainst the foeman'due south elephant to show
His valor;—such was Shūdraka, the king. 5
And in this work of his,
Inside the boondocks, Avanti named,
Dwells ane called Chārudatta, famed
No less for youth than poverty;
A merchant's son and Brahman, he.
His virtues have the ability to movement
Vasantasenā's inmost love;
Fair as the springtime'due south radiancy,
And yet a courtezan is she. 6
So hither king Shūdraka the tale imparts
Of love'southward pure festival in these two hearts,
Of prudent acts, a lawsuit's wrong and hate,
A rascal'southward nature, and the form of fate. 7
[He walks nearly and looks around him.] Why, this music-room of ours is empty. I wonder where the actors have gone. [Reflecting.] Ah, I sympathise.
p. 3
Empty his business firm, to whom no child was built-in;
Thrice empty his, who lacks true friends and sure;
To fools, the world is empty and forlorn;
But all that is, is empty to the poor. 8
I have finished the concert. And I've been practising so long that the pupils of my eyes are dancing, and I'g so hungry that my optics are crackling similar a lotus-seed, dried upward by the fiercest rays of the summer sun. I'll merely phone call my wife and inquire whether at that place is anything for breakfast or not.
Hello! here I am—just no! Both the detail occasion and the full general custom demand that I speak Prākrit. [Speaking in Prākrit.] Confound it! I've been practising so long and I'm and then hungry that my limbs are every bit weak as dried-up lotus-stalks. Suppose I go home and see whether my good wife has got annihilation fix or not. [He walks virtually and looks around him.] Here I am at abode. I'll just go in. [He enters and looks about.] Merciful heavens! Why in the globe is everything in our business firm turned upside down? A long stream of rice-water is flowing down the street. The ground, spotted black where the fe kettle has been rubbed clean, is as lovely every bit a girl with the beauty-marks of black cosmetic on her face. It smells so good that my hunger seems to bonfire up and hurts me more than always. Has some hidden treasure come to calorie-free? or am I hungry plenty to think the whole world is fabricated of rice? At that place surely isn't any breakfast in our house, and I'1000 starved to expiry. Simply everything seems topsyturvy here. One girl is preparing cosmetics, another is weaving garlands of flowers. [Reflecting.] What does it all hateful? Well, I'll call my skilful wife and larn the truth. [He looks toward the dressing-room.] Mistress, volition you come hither a moment?
[Enter an actress.]
Actress. Here I am, sir.
Director. Y'all are very welcome, mistress.
Actress. Command me, sir. What am I to practice?
p. iv
Director. Mistress, I've been practising so long and I'm so hungry that my limbs are equally weak as dried-up lotus-stalks. Is at that place anything to swallow in the house or not?
Extra. There'south everything, sir.
Director. Well, what?
Actress. For instance—there'south rice with carbohydrate, melted butter, curdled milk, rice; and, all together, it makes you lot a dish fit for sky. May the gods always exist thus gracious to you!
Director. All that in our firm? or are you joking?
Actress. [Aside.] Yes, I will have my joke. [Aloud.] It'southward in the market-identify, sir.
Director. [Angrily.] You wretched woman, thus shall your own hope be cut off! And death shall discover you out! For my expectations, like a scaffolding, take been raised so high, only to fall once again.
Actress. Forgive me, sir, forgive me! It was but a joke.
Director. But what do these unusual preparations mean? I girl is preparing cosmetics, some other is weaving garlands, and the very ground is adorned with sacrificial flowers of 5 different colors.
Actress. This is a fast solar day, sir.
Director. What fast?
Actress. The fast for a handsome husband.
Managing director. In this world, mistress, or the next?
Extra. In the adjacent world, sir.
Director. [Wrathfully.] Gentlemen! look at this. She is sacrificing my food to get herself a husband in the next world.
Actress. Don't be angry, sir. I am fasting in the hope that you may exist my married man in my next nascence, also.
Director. Only who suggested this fast to you?
Extra. Your own beloved friend Jūrnavriddha.
Director. [Angrily.] Ah, Jūrnavriddha, son of a slave-wench! When, oh, when shall I see King Pālaka angry with you? Then
p. v
you lot will be parted, as surely equally the scented pilus of some young helpmate.
Actress. Don't exist angry, sir. It is merely that I may have you lot in the next earth that I celebrate this fast. [She falls at his feet.]
Managing director. Stand upward, mistress, and tell me who is to officiate at this fast.
Actress. Some Brahman of our ain sort whom we must invite.
Director. You may go then. And I will invite some Brahman of our own sort.
Actress. Very well, sir.
[Exit.
Manager. [Walking virtually.] Practiced heavens! In this rich metropolis of Ujjayinī how am I to find a Brahman of our own sort? [He looks well-nigh him.] Ah, hither comes Chārudatta's friend Maitreya. Expert! I'll ask him. Maitreya, you must be the first to break staff of life in our house to-twenty-four hour period.
A phonation backside the scenes. You must invite some other Brahman. I am busy.
Director. But, human, the feast is set and you accept information technology all to yourself. Besides, y'all shall take a nowadays.
The voice. I said no once. Why should you keep on urging me?
Director. He says no. Well, I must invite some other Brahman.
[Exit.
END OF THE PROLOGUE
Source: https://www.sacred-texts.com/hin/lcc/lcc06.htm
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