The Little Clay Cart Part 40

_Vasantasena._ I made a mistake in the cart, and thus I came hither. I throw myself upon your protection.

_Courtier._ Do not fear. Come, I must deceive him. [_He returns to Sansthanaka._] Jacka.s.s, there is indeed a witch who makes her home in the cart.

_Sansthanaka._ But s.h.i.+r, if a witch is living there, why are n't you robbed? And if it 's a thief, why are n't you eaten alive?

_Courtier._ Why try to determine that? But if we should go back on foot through the gardens until we came to the city, to Ujjayini, what harm would that do?

_Sansthanaka._ And if we did, what then?

[121.7. S.

_Courtier._ Then we should have some exercise, and should avoid tiring the bullocks.

_Sansthanaka._ All right. Sthavaraka, my shlave, drive on. But no!

Shtop, shtop! I go on foot before G.o.ds and Brahmans? Not much!

I 'll go in my cart, sho that people shall shee me a long way off, and shay "There he goes, our mashter, the king's brother-in-law."

_Courtier._ [_Aside._] It is hard to convert poison into medicine. So be it, then. [_Aloud._] Jacka.s.s, this is Vasantasena, come to visit you.

_Vasantasena._ Heaven forbid!

_Sansthanaka._ [_Gleefully._] Oh, oh! To visit me, an arishtocrat, a man, a regular Vasudeva?

_Courtier._ Yes.

_Sansthanaka._ This is an unheard-of piece of luck. That other time I made her angry, sho now I 'll fall at her feet and beg her pardon.

_Courtier._ Capital!

_Sansthanaka._ I 'll fall at her feet myshelf. [_He approaches Vasantasena._] Little mother, mamma dear, lishten to my prayer.

I fold my hands and fall before thy feet-- Thine eyes are large, thy teeth are clean and neat, Thy finger-nails are ten--forgive thy shlave What, love-tormented, he offended, shweet. 18

_Vasantasena._ [_Angrily._] Leave me! Your words are an insult! [_She spurns him with her foot._]

_Sansthanaka._ [_Wrathfully._]

Thish head that mother and that mamma kissed, That never bent to wors.h.i.+p G.o.d, I wist, Upon thish head she dared to plant her feet, Like jackals on the carrion they meet. 19

Sthavaraka, you shlave, where did you pick her up?

_Sthavaraka._ Master, the highway was blocked by villagers' wagons.

So I stopped my cart near Charudatta's orchard, and got out. And while I was helping a villager with his wagon, I suppose she mistook this cart for another, and climbed in.

P. 201.14]

_Sansthanaka._ Oho! she mishtook my cart for another? and did n't come to shee me? Get out of my cart, get out! You 're going to visit your poor merchant's shon, are you? Those are my bullocks you 're driving. Get out, get out, you shlave! Get out, get out!

_Vasantasena._ Truly, you honor me when you say that I came to see Charudatta. Now what must be, must be.

_Sansthanaka._

These hands of mine, ten-finger-naily, These hands sho lotush-leafy, Are itching-anxious, girl, to dally With you; and in a jiffy I 'll drag Your Shweetness by the hair From the cart wherein you ride, As did Jatayu Bali's fair, The monkey Bali's bride. 20

_Courtier._

So virtuous ladies may not be Insulted thus despitefully; Nor garden creepers may not be Robbed of their leaves so cruelly. 21

Stand up, man. I will help her to alight. Come, Vasantasena! [_Vasantasena alights and stands apart._]

_Sansthanaka._ [_Aside._] The flame of wrath was kindled when she despised my proposition, and now it blazes up because she kicked me. Sho now I 'll murder her. Good! Thish way. [_Aloud._] Well, s.h.i.+r, what do you want?

A cloak with fringes hanging down and all, Tied with a hundred shtrings? or good ragout, To make you shmack your greedy lips and call "Chuhoo, chuhoo, chukku, chuhoo, chuhooo"? 22

_Courtier._ Well?

_Sansthanaka._ Do me a favor.

[123.11. S.

_Courtier._ Certainly. Anything, unless it be a sin.

_Sansthanaka._ There's not a shmell of a s.h.i.+n in it, s.h.i.+r. Not a perfume!

_Courtier._ Speak, then.

_Sansthanaka._ Murder Vasantasena.

_Courtier._ [_Stopping his ears._]

A tender lady, gem of this our city, A courtezan whose love was stainless ever-- If I should kill her, sinless, without pity.

What boat would bear me on the gloomy river? 23

_Sansthanaka._ I'll give you a boat. And bes.h.i.+des, in thish deserted garden, who'll shee you murdering her?

_Courtier._

The regions ten,[80] the forest G.o.ds, the sky, The wind, the moon, the sun whose rays are light, Virtue, my conscience--these I cannot fly, Nor earth, that witnesses to wrong and right. 24

_Sansthanaka._ Well then, put your cloak over her and murder her.

_Courtier._ You fool! You scoundrel!

_Sansthanaka._ The old hog is afraid of a s.h.i.+n. Never mind. I'll pershuade Sthavaraka, my shlave. Sthavaraka, my little shon, my shlave, I'll give you golden bracelets.

_Sthavaraka._ And I'll wear them.

_Sansthanaka._ I'll have a golden sheat made for you.