The Little Clay Cart – Act V
Act, the Fifth
THE STORM
[The love-lorn Chārudatta appears, seated.]
Chārudatta. [Looks up.]
The peacocks gaze and lift their fans on high;
The swans forget their purpose to depart;
The untimely storm afflicts the blackened sky,
And the wistful lover’s heart.1
And again:
In flashing lightning’s golden mantle clad,
While cranes, his buglers, make the heaven glad,
The cloud, a second Vishnu, mounts the sky.2
And yet again:
To trumpet him, instead of bugle strains,
And garmented in lightning’s silken robe.
Approaches now the harbinger of rains.3
Impetuous falls from out the cloudy womb;
Like severed lace from heaven-cloaking gloom,
It gleams an instant, then is gone forever.4
Or like to swans, toward heaven’s vault that fly,
Like paired flamingos, male and mate together,
Like mighty pinnacles that tower on high.
In thousand forms the tumbling clouds embrace,
Though torn by winds, they gather, interlace,
And paint the ample canvas of the sky.5
Proud as the champion of Kuru’s race.
The haughty peacock shrills his joy abroad;
The cuckoo, in Yudhishthira’s sad case,
Is forced to wander if he would not die;
The swans must leave their forest-homes and fly,
Like Pāndu’s sons, to seek an unknown place.6
[Reflecting.] It is long since Maitreya went to visit Vasantasenā. And even yet
he does not come.[Enter Maitreya.]
[76.20. S.
Maitreya. Confound the courtezan’s avarice and her incivility! To think of her making so short a story of it! Over and over she repeats something about the affection she feels, and then without more ado she pockets the necklace. She is rich enough so that she might at least have said: “Good Maitreya, rest a little. You must not go until you have had a cup to drink.” Confound the courtezan! I hope I ‘ll never set eyes on her again. [Wearily.] The proverb is right. “It is hard to find a lotus-plant without a root, a merchant who never cheats, a goldsmith who never steals, a village-gathering without a fight, and a courtezan without avarice.” Well, I ‘ll find my friend and persuade him to have nothing more to do with this courtezan. [He walks about until he discovers Chārudatta.] Ah, my good friend is sitting in the orchard. I ‘ll go to him. [Approaching.] Heaven bless you! May happiness be yours.
Chārudatta. [Looking up.] Ah, my friend Maitreya has returned. You are very welcome, my friend. Pray be seated.
Maitreya. Thank you.
Chārudatta. Tell me of your errand, my friend.
Maitreya. My errand went all wrong.
P. 132.8]
Chārudatta. What! did she not accept the necklace?
Maitreya. She put her lotus-tender hands to her brow, and took it.
Chārudatta. Then why do you say “went wrong”?
Maitreya. Why not, when we lost a necklace that was the pride of the four seas for a cheap golden casket, that was stolen before we had a bite or a drink out of it?
Chārudatta. Not so, my friend.
The price of confidence has no less measure.7
Maitreya. Now look here! I have a second grievance. That sort of society does any amount o