Nagananda (Boyd 1872)/Act 3
ACT III.
Parasite.
These are the only two gods for me—the one who is always drinking, and the one who brings lovers together—Baladeva[1] and Káma-deva. (Reels about.) Assuredly the life of me, Śekharaka, is very prosperous, since in my bosom is a loved lady, in my mouth lotus-scented wine, and on my head a garland, like a perpetual minister to my wants. (Stumbles.) Halloa! Who is pushing against me now? (With joy.) Assuredly Navamáliká makes game of me.
Slave.
She is not yet come, sir.
Parasite (angrily).
The marriage of Malayavatí took place in the first watch; how, then, is she not come yet, though it is morning? (Thinking for a time, with joy.) I suppose that at the marriage feast all the Siddha and Vidyádhara people, with their friends and acquaintances, are enjoying the delight of drinking in the flower-garden; so that there Navamáliká will be looking out for me. So I will now go there. What is Śekharaka without Navamáliká?[2]
Slave.
Come along, sir. Here is the flower-garden. Be pleased to enter.
Then enters the Vidúshaka, with a pair of garments
on his shoulder.
Vidúshaka.
The desires of my dear friend are fulfilled. I am told that he is on his way to the flower-garden. So I will now go there. (Walking and looking about.) Here is the flower-garden. I will enter. (After entering, gesticulating as if annoyed by bees.) Halloa! Why now do these odious bees attack me? (Smelling himself.) Ah! I see how it is. I have been respectfully decked with perfumes by the relations of Malayavatí, as the bridegroom's friend, and a garland of Santána flowers has been placed upon my head, and now that very respect has become a cause of annoyance. What shall I do? Having dressed myself as a woman with these pieces of red cloth, which I have brought from Malayavatí, I will go on, using the upper garment as a veil. We will see what these villanous bees will then do.
Parasite (observing him, joyfully).
Halloa! slave. (Pointing laughingly with his finger.) Here is surely Navamáliká. She has seen me, and, in a rage at my long delay, puts on her veil and turns away. So I will appease her with caresses.
he tries to put some betel nut in his mouth.
Vidúshaka (perceiving the smell of wine, holds his nose,
and turns away his face).
How now? Having but just escaped the attack of bees of one sort, I am assailed by an odious bee of a different nature.[3]
Parasite.
Why do you turn away your face in anger? (Prostrating himself, and placing the Vidúshaka’s foot on his head.) Be appeased, O Navamáliká!
Then enters a Servant Girl.
Girl.
I am bidden by the queen—"O Navamáliká, go to the flower-garden, and say to the keeper, Pallaviká, 'To-day, prepare the tamála-bower with especial care, for the bridegroom and Malayavatí are going thither.'" I have given the message to Pallaviká; and I will now seek my dear friend, Śekharaka, whose passion will be increased by my night's absence. (Seeing him.) Here he is. (Angrily.) How now! He is courting some other woman! I will just stop, and find out who she is.
Parasite (joyfully).
He who, through excessive pride, bows not to Śiva, Vishnu, or Brahma, that same Śekharaka falls at thy feet, O Navamáliká.
Vidúshaka.
Oh drunken wretch, there is no Navamáliká here.
Girl (looking, with a smile).
Śekharaka, overcome with wine, is soothing his reverence Átreya in mistake for me. I will put on a pretence of anger, and have a game with them.
Slave (having seen the Servant Girl,
shaking Śekharaka with his hand).
Sir, let her go. It is not Navamáliká. Here is Navamáliká, just come, and looking on, with eyes lit up with anger.
Girl (going up).
Well, Śekharaka, whom are you courting here?
Vidúshaka (letting the veil drop).
O lady, it is only I, an ill-fated Brahman.
Parasite (recognising the Vidúshaka).
Halloa! You tawny monkey, would you too deceive Śekharaka? Come, slave, take hold of him, whilst I soothe Navamáliká.
Slave.
Whatever my master orders.
Parasite (letting go the Vidúshaka, and falling at the
feet of the Servant Girl).
Be be appeased, appeased, O Navamáliká!
Vidúshaka (to himself).
This seems a good opportunity to make off.
Slave (grasping the Vidúshaka by his Brahmanical cord,
which is broken in the struggle).
Where are you off to, you tawny monkey?
garment, he drags him along.
Vidúshaka.
O lady, Navamáliká, be appeased. Make him release me.
Girl.
If you fall at my feet, with your head on the ground.
Vidúshaka (with anger, and trembling).
Alas! How can I, who am a Brahman, and friend of the king of the Gandharvas, fall at the feet of the daughter of a slave?
Girl (shaking her finger at him, and smiling).
I will compel you to bow presently.—Get up, Śekharaka, get up. I am satisfied. (She embraces him.) But here the dear friend of the bridegroom has been insulted by you, and I daresay your master, Mitrávasu, will be angry on hearing of it. So you had better pay respect to him.
Parasite.
Whatsoever Navamáliká orders. (After embracing the Vidúshaka.) O sir, you were joked with by me, thinking you were one of my relations. (Reeling about.) Am I really Śekharaka? Has any joke really been made? (Making his upper garment into a bundle, he offers it as a seat.) Let my relation take a seat here.
Vidúshaka (to himself).
Thank goodness! he has passed the violent stage of his drunkenness.
Parasite.
O Navamáliká, do you take a seat at his side, so that I may pay my respects to you both at once.
Parasite (taking up the drinking-cup).
Slave, fill this to the brim with wine.
O Navamáliká, taste it, and pass it to him.
Girl (with a smile).
Whatever you wish.
Parasite
(presenting the cup to the Vidúshaka).
This cup, with its contents specially flavoured by contact with the lips of Navamáliká, has never before been tasted, except by Śekharaka. Drink, therefore. What greater honour could I show you?
Vidúshaka (with a very forced smile).
O Śekharaka, I am a Brahman.
Parasite.
If so, where is your ninefold thread?[4]
Vidúshaka.
It was dragged and broken by that slave.
Girl (laughingly).
Recite to us, then, some verses of the Vedas.
Vidúshaka.
O lady, what have the smell of wine and verses of the Vedas in common?[5] However, I have no wish to argue with you. The Brahman falls at your feet.
Girl (checking him with both hands).
Your reverence must not do so. O Śekharaka, get away, get away; he is really a Brahman.[6] (She falls at the feet of the Vidúshaka.) O sir, do not nurse your wrath. This was only a piece of friendly joking.
Parasite (to himself).
I too had better appease him. (Falling at his feet, aloud.) Let your reverence forgive me for having offended under the influence of wine. I will now go with Navamáliká to the drinking-booth.
Vidúshaka.
I forgive you. Be off, both of you. I too will go and see my dear patron.
Servant Girl.
Vidúshaka.
The untimely death of a Brahman has been averted. But since I am defiled by contact with this drunken youth, I will just bathe in this tank. (He does so. Looking towards the tiring-room.) Here comes my dear friend, supporting Malayavatí, like Krishna supporting Rukminí.[7] I will go and attend upon them.
Then enters the hero, dressed in marriage garments, with
Malayavatí, and a suitable retinue.
Jímútaváhana.
(looking, with rapture, at Malayavatí).
When looked upon, she casts down her eye; when addressed, she makes no reply; on the couch, she remains turned away; when excessively embraced, she trembles; when her friends leave the room, she too wishes to go out: through the very perversity of her behaviour my newly-married love is still more to my liking. (Looking at Malayavatí.) O beloved Malayavatí, a vow of silence was kept by me, though accustomed to answer in haughty tones; this body of mine was bathed in the rays of the sun and moon, and in the flames of forest fires; and I was rapt in total abstraction of mind for many days and nights. Surely the fruit of all that penance is, that I now behold this face of thine.
Malayavatí (aside).
O Chaturiká, he is not only pleasant to the eye, but he knows also how to speak in a flattering manner.
Girl (smiling).
You might say so, if he was flattering. But where is the flattery in this?
Jímútaváhana.
O Chaturiká, point out the path to the flower-garden.
Girl.
This way, my lord.
Jímútaváhana
(walking about, addressing the heroine).
Let your ladyship come just as you are. The weight of your breasts themselves tends to weary you; why, then place a pearl ornament on your waist? The weight of your hips is wearisome,—much more this girdle! There is hardly sufficient power in your feet to carry your limbs, far less your anklets! Your limbs being so lovely, why should you wear ornaments that only tend to weary you?
Girl.
Here is the flower-garden. Be pleased to enter.
Jímútaváhana (looking round).
Well, truly the beauty of the flower-garden is great! Here the droppings from the sandal-trees cool the creeper-bower with its tesselated pavement. The peacock dances yet more wildly to the shrill sound of the shower-baths. The cascade, brown with the pollen of flowers, shaken from the trees by the impetuous foam, falls with a rush from the machine, and fills the basins at the foot of the trees. Again, these bees, making the creeper-bower resound with their attempts at song, as they drink in abundant honey, in company with their wives, covered with a perfumed dust by the pollen of flowers, seem to enjoy on every side a drinking festival.
Vidúshaka.
Victory to your highness! Welcome to your ladyship!
Jímútaváhana.
O friend! you have been very long in coming.
Vidúshaka.
I am come as soon as I could. But I delayed so long walking about, through curiosity to see the drinking of the Vidyádharas and Siddhas, intermingled at the marriage feast. Do you, too, just take a look at them.
Jímútaváhana.
We will do as you say. (Looking on all sides.) Friend, see, see! Their limbs anointed with yellow sandal, and wearing wreaths of Santána flowers, with their bright garments variegated by the mixture of rays from their jewelled ornaments, these Vidyádharas and Siddhas, intermingled beneath the shade of the sandal-trees, drink the nectar, just tasted and left by their loved ones. Come, we will go to the tamála avenue.
Vidúshaka.
Here is the tamála avenue. Her ladyship appears fatigued with walking to it. Let us therefore sit down on this crystal seat, and rest.
Jímútaváhana.
Friend, it is well suggested. The face of my dear one, after having worsted the moon by the pale beauty of its cheeks, now surely wishes to surpass the lotus when reddened by the sun's rays. (Taking the heroine by the hand.) Dear one, let us sit down.
Malayavati.
Whatever my husband bids me.
Jímútaváhana.
(raising the heroine's face, and looking at it).
Dear one, to no purpose hast thou been wearied by us, through our anxiety to see the flower garden, since this face of thine, resplendent with its creepers of eyebrows and shoot-like pink lips, is a very garden of paradise. Compared with this, every garden is but a jungle.
Girl (addressing the Vidúshaka, with a smile).
You have heard how he describes the princess. I will now paint you.
Vidúshaka (gladly).
O lady! I am alive again now. Pray, then, do me the favour in your best style, that yon fellow may never again call me a tawny monkey.
Girl.
Sir, you seemed lovely to me at the marriage watch, with your eyes shut through drowsiness. Therefore stand like that for me to paint you.
Girl (to herself).
Whilst he stands with his eyes shut, I will blacken his face with the juice of a tamála shoot, which will do as well as indigo.
she blackens his face.
(The hero and heroine look at the Vidúshaka.)
Jímútaváhana.
Friend, you are in luck, being painted, with us for spectators.
Jímútaváhana ( looking in her face).
O lovely-eyed one! the springing of the blossom of a smile is seen on your shoot-like lower lip, but the fruit is seen elsewhere, namely, in the eyes of me as I gaze.
Vidúshaka.
Madam, what have you done?
Girl.
Why, are you not painted?
Vidúshaka (after rubbing his hand over his face and
looking at it, raising his staff).
O daughter of a slave! the royal family are present. What shall I do to you?—Alas! notwithstanding your royal presence, I am blackened by this daughter of a slave. How can I remain here? I will be off.
Girl.
His reverence Átreya is vexed with me. I will go and conciliate him.
Malayavatí.
O Chaturiká! whither do you go, leaving me all alone?
Girl (pointing to the hero, and smiling).
May you be long in such solitude!
Jímútaváhana (looking in the face of heroine).
O lovely one! if this face of thine, with its pink flush as it is lighted up by the sun's rays, and with its soft down revealed by the spreading gleam of its teeth, is really a lotus, why is not a bee seen drinking the honey from it?[8]
(Heroine, laughing, turns her face another way.)
(Hero repeats the same sentence.)
Girl
(entering with a hurried toss of the curtain, and coming up).
Here is the noble Mitrávasu, desirous to see the prince on some business.
Jímútaváhana.
Dear one, do you go to the house. I too will soon come, after I have seen Mitrávasu.
Then enters Mitrávasu.
Mitrávasu.
Whilst that enemy is still unslain, how can I without a sense of shame say to Jímútaváhana, "Your kingdom is seized by an enemy?" Still, it is not right to go without informing him. So I will tell him and then go. O prince! Mitrávasu salutes you.
Jímútaváhana (on seeing Mitrávasu).
Pray, be seated.
Jímútaváhana (looking steadily at him).
O Mitrávasu! you seem vexed.
Mitrávasu.
Who would be put out by one so despicable as Matanga?
Jímútaváhana.
What has Matanga been doing?
Mitrávasu.
Assuredly to his own destruction, he has attacked your kingdom.
Jímútaváhana (with joy, to himself).
Oh! would that it were true!
Mitrávasu.
Therefore let the prince deign to give orders for his destruction. What need of talking long about it? As soon as, at thy command, the Siddhas are gone hence to battle, making the day dark by clouding the sun, as if it were the rainy season, with their heaven-traversing chariots crowding on every side,—your monarchy, whose zemindars are temporarily bowing through fear of this haughty enemy, will at once be regained. What need though of great multitudes? By me, single-handed, shining with an aureole of rays from the quickly-drawn sword, behold the coward Matanga already slain on the battle-field, like a mighty elephant by a lion which has sprung on him from afar.
Jímútaváhana (to himself, covering his ears).
Ah! how cruelly he speaks! However, let it pass. (Aloud.) O Mitrávasu! what is all this? Even something more than this might be possible for you, with such strong arms. But how should I, a man who through pity, though unasked, would give up his own body for the sake of another, permit the cruelty of destroying life for the sake of a kingdom? For my part, I can conceive no enemy except the Kleśas.[9] If, then, you would please me, pity that poor wretch, who, for the sake of kingly power, has become a slave to the Kleśas.
Mitrávasu (bitterly).
One, forsooth, who has done so much good to us, and is in such misfortune, is well worthy of pity!
Jímútaváhana (to himself).
His wrath is not to be averted. His mind, swayed by passion, cannot be turned aside. Well, let it be. (Aloud.) Rise, we will go in-doors. There I will advise you. The day is now ended,—for yonder sun, the sole object worthy of adulation, whose favour is solely for the good of others, is looked on by the Siddhas, with their voices loud in continual praise, as he goes to rest, having vivified the universe with his rays, whose sole business is to fill the eight quarters with light, and to keep off from the lotus buds the binding seal of sleep.
END OF THE THIRD ACT.
- ↑ Baladeva, the elder brother of Krishna, celebrated for his drinking exploits; a sort of Bacchus.
- ↑ Both these names are significant. Śekharaka properly means a garland, and Navamáliká the double-jasmine.
- ↑ A pun on the word "madhukara," which means both a "bee" and a "lover."
- ↑ See Manu II. 44, Comm.
- ↑ In Manu IV. 3, a priest is forbidden to pronounce texts of the Veda, "as long as the scent and unctuosity of perfumes remain on his body" after an entertainment.
- ↑ See Manu XI. 206.
- ↑ Rukminí was the chief wife of Krishna. See Prem Ságar, ch. lxxxiii.
- ↑ A polite way of asking for a kiss. See note on p. 42.
- ↑ Kleśas.—The kleśas are well known in Buddhist theology. See Burnouf, "Lotus de la bonne loi," App. II. They are the ten vices, thus divided:—Three of the body, murder, theft, adultery; four of speech, lying, slander, abuse, unprofitable conversation; three of the mind, covetousness, malice, scepticism. In the Yoga philosophy there are five: ignorance, egotism, desire, hatred, tenacity of existence.