The Little Clay Cart – Act II
Act, the Second
THE SHAMPOOER WHO GAMBLED
[Enter a maid.]
Maid.
I am sent with a message to my mistress by her mother. I must go in and find my mistress. [She walks about and looks around her.] There is my mistress. She is painting a picture, and putting her whole heart into it. I must go and speak to her.
[Then appear the love-lorn Vasantasenā, seated, and Madanikā.]
Vasantasenā. Well, girl, and then—
Madanikā. But mistress, you were not speaking of anything. What do you mean?
Vasantasenā. Why, what did I say?
Madanikā. You said, “and then”—
Vasantasenā. [Puckering her brows.] Oh, yes. So I did.
Maid. [Approaching.] Mistress, your mother sends word that you should bathe and then offer worship to the gods.
Vasantasenā. You may tell my mother that I shall not take the ceremonial bath to-day. A Brahman must offer worship in my place.
Maid. Yes, mistress.[Exit.
Madanikā. My dear mistress, it is love, not naughtiness, that asks the question—but what does this mean?
Vasantasenā. Tell me, Madanikā. How do I seem to you?
Madanikā. My mistress is so absent-minded that I know her heart is filled with longing for somebody.
Vasantasenā. Well guessed. My Madanikā is quick to fathom another’s heart.
Madanikā. I am very, very glad. Yes, Kāma is indeed mighty, and his great festival is welcome when one is young. But tell me, mistress, is it a king, or a king’s favorite, whom you worship?
[28.1. S.
Vasantasenā. Girl, I wish to love, not to worship.
Madanikā. Is it a Brahman that excites your passion, some youth distinguished for very particular learning?
Vasantasenā. A Brahman I should have to reverence.
Madanikā. Or is it some young merchant, grown enormously wealthy from visiting many cities?
Vasantasenā. A merchant, girl, must go to other countries and leave you behind, no matter how much you love him. And the separation makes you very sad.
Madanikā. It isn’t a king, nor a favorite, nor a Brahman, nor a merchant. Who is it then that the princess loves?
Vasantasenā. Girl! Girl! You went with me to the park where Kāma’s temple stands?
Madanikā. Yes, mistress.
Vasantasenā. And yet you ask, as if you were a perfect stranger.
Madanikā. Now I know. Is it the man who comforted you when you asked to be protected?
Vasantasenā. Well, what was his name?
Madanikā. Why, he lives in the merchants’ quarter.
Vasantasenā. But I asked you for his name.
Madanikā. His name, mistress, is a good omen in itself. His name is Chārudatta.
Vasantasenā. [Joyfully.] Good, Madanikā, good. You have guessed it.
Madanikā. [Aside.] So much for that. [Aloud.] Mistress, they say he is poor.
Vasantasenā. That is the very reason why I love him. For a courtezan who sets her heart on a poor man is blameless in the eyes of the world.
P. 59.14]
Madanikā. But mistress, do the butterflies visit the mango-tree when its blossoms have fallen?
Vasantasenā. That is just why we call that sort of a girl a butterfly.
Madanikā.
Vasantasenā. Girl, if I should visit him at once, the