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The King of the Dark Chamber


By Rabindranath Tagore


[Translated from Bengali to English by Kshitish Chandra Sen]


[New York: The Macmillan Company, 1914;
Copyright, 1914, by Drama League of America,
by The Macmillan Company]




I


[A street.  A few wayfarers, and a CITY GUARD]

FIRST MAN.  Ho, Sir!

CITY GUARD.  What do you want?

SECOND MAN.  Which way should we go?  We are strangers here.
Please tell us which street we should take.

CITY GUARD.  Where do you want to go?

THIRD MAN.  To where those big festivities are going to be held,
you know.  Which way do we go?

CITY GUARD.  One street is quite as good as another here.  Any
street will lead you there.  Go straight ahead, and you cannot
miss the place.  [Exit.]

FIRST MAN.  Just hear what the fool says: "Any street will lead
you there!"  Where, then, would be the sense of having so many
streets?

SECOND MAN.  You needn't be so awfully put out at that, my man.
A country is free to arrange its affairs in its own way.  As for
roads in our country--well, they are as good as non-existent;
narrow and crooked lanes, a labyrinth of ruts and tracks.  Our
King does not believe in open thoroughfares; he thinks that
streets are just so many openings for his subjects to fly away
from his kingdom.  It is quite the contrary here; nobody stands
in your way, nobody objects to your going elsewhere if you like
to; and yet the people are far from deserting this kingdom.  With
such streets our country would certainly have been depopulated in
no time.

FIRST MAN.  My dear Janardan, I have always noticed that this is
a great fault in your character.

JANARDAN.  What is?

FIRST MAN.  That you are always having a fling at your country.
How can you think that open highways may be good for a country?
Look here, Kaundilya; here is a man who actually believes that
open highways are the salvation of a country.

KAUNDILYA.  There is no need, Bhavadatta, of my pointing out
afresh that Janardan is blessed with an intelligence which is
remarkably crooked, which is sure to land him in danger some day.
If the King comes to hear of our worthy friend, he will make it a
pretty hard job for him to find any one to do him his funeral
rites when he is dead.

BHAVADATTA.  One can't help feeling that life becomes a burden in
this country; one misses the joys of privacy in these streets--
this jostling and brushing shoulders with strange people day and
night makes one long for a bath.  And nobody can tell exactly
what kind of people you are meeting with in these public roads--
ugh!

KAUNDILYA.  And it is Janardan who persuaded us to come to this
precious country!  We never had any second person like him in our
family.  You knew my father, of course; he was a great man, a
pious man if ever there was one.  He spent his whole life within
a circle of a radius of 49 cubits drawn with a rigid adherence to
the injunctions of the scriptures, and never for a single day did
he cross this circle.  After his death a serious difficulty
arose--how cremate him within the limits of the 49 cubits and yet
outside the house?  At length the priests decided that though we
could not go beyond the scriptural number, the only way out of
the difficulty was to reverse the figure and make it 94 cubits;
only thus could we cremate him outside the house without
violating the sacred books.  My word, that was strict observance!
Ours is indeed no common country.

BHAVADATTA.  And yet, though Janardan comes from the very same
soil, he thinks it wise to declare that open highways are best
for a country.

[Enter GRANDFATHER with a band of boys]

GRANDFATHER.  Boys, we will have to vie with the wild breeze of
the south to-day--and we are not going to be beaten.  We will
sing till we have flooded all streets with our mirth and song.

SONG.

/*
  The southern gate is unbarred.  Come, my spring, come!
  Thou wilt swing at the swing of my heart, come, my spring,
    come!
  Come in the lisping leaves, in the youthful surrender of
    flowers;
  Come in the flute songs and the wistful sighs of the woodlands!
  Let your unfastened robe wildly flap in the drunken wind!
    Come, my spring, come!
*/

[Exeunt.]

[Enter a band of CITIZENS]

FIRST CITIZEN.  After all, one cannot help wishing that the King
had allowed himself to be seen at least this one day.  What a
great pity, to live in his kingdom and yet not to have seen him
for a single day!

SECOND CITIZEN.  If you only knew the real meaning of all this
mystery!  I could tell you if you would keep a secret.

FIRST CITIZEN.  My dear fellow, we both live in the same quarter
of the town, but have you ever known me letting out any man s
secret?  Of course, that matter of your brother's finding a
hidden fortune while digging for a well--well, you know well
enough why I had to give it out.  You know all the facts.

SECOND CITIZEN.  Of course I know.  And it is because I know that
I ask, could you keep a secret if I tell you?  It may mean
ruination to us all, you know, if you once let it out.

THIRD CITIZEN.  You are a nice man, after all, Virupaksha!  Why
are you so anxious to bring down a disaster which as yet only may
happen?  Who will be responsible for keeping your secret all his
life?

VIRUPAKSHA.  It is only because the topic came up--well, then, I
shall not say anything.  I am not the man to say things for
nothing.  You had yourself brought up the question that the King
never showed himself; and I only remarked that it was not for
nothing that the King shut himself up from the public gaze.

FIRST CITIZEN.  Pray do tell us why, Virupaksha.

VIRUPAKSHA.  Of course I don't mind telling you--for we are all
good friends, aren't we?  There can be no harm.  (With a low
voice.) The King--is--hideous to look at, so he has made up his
mind never to show himself to his subjects.

FIRST CITIZEN.  Ha! that's it!  It must be so.  We have always
wondered ...  why, the mere sight of a King in all countries
makes one's soul quake like an aspen leaf with fear; but why
should our King never have been seen by any mortal soul?  Even if
he at least came out and consigned us all to the gibbet, we might
be sure that our King was no hoax.  After all, there is much in
Virupaksha's explanation that sounds plausible enough.

THIRD CITIZEN.  Not a bit--I don't believe in a syllable of it.

VIRUPAKSHA.  What, Vishu, do you mean to say that I am a liar?

VISHU.  I don't exactly mean that--but I cannot accept your
theory.  Excuse me, I cannot help if I seem a bit rude or
churlish.

VIRUPAKSHA.  Small wonder that you can't believe my words--you
who think yourself sage enough to reject the opinions of your
parents and superiors.  How long do you think you could have
stayed in this country if the King did not remain in hiding?  You
are no better than a flagrant heretic.

VISHU.  My dear pillar of orthodoxy!  Do you think any other King
would have hesitated to cut off your tongue and make it food for
dogs?  And you have the face to say that our King is horrid to
look at!

VIRUPAKSHA.  Look here, Vishu.  will you curb your tongue?

VISHU.  It would be superfluous to point out whose tongue needs
the curbing.

FIRST CITIZEN.  Hush, my dear friends--this looks rather bad....
It seems as if they are resolved to put me in danger as well.  I
am not going to be a party to all this.[Exit.]

[Enter a number of men, dragging in GRANDFATHER, in boisterous
exuberance]

SECOND CITIZEN.  Grandpa, something strikes me to-day ...

GRANDFATHER.  What is it?

SECOND CITIZEN.  This year every country has sent its people to
our festival, but every one asks, "Everything is nice and
beautiful--but where is your King?"  and we do not know what to
answer.  That is the one big gap which cannot but make itself
felt to every one in our country.

GRANDFATHER.  "Gap," do you say!  Why, the whole country is all
filled and crammed and packed with the King: and you call him a
"gap"!  Why,he has made every one of us a crowned King!

SINGS.

/*
  We are all Kings in the kingdom of our King.
  Were it not so, how could we hope in our heart to meet him!
  We do what we like, yet we do what he likes;
  We are not bound with the chain of fear at the feet of a slave-
    owning King.
  Were it not so, how could we hope in our heart to meet him!
  Our King honours each one of us, thus honours his own very
    self.
  No littleness can keep us shut up in its walls of untruth for
    aye.
  Were it not so, how could we have hope in our heart to meet
    him!
  We struggle and dig our own path, thus reach his path at the
    end.
  We can never get lost in the abyss of dark night.
  Were it not so, how could we hope in our heart to meet him!
*/

THIRD CITIZEN.  But, really, I cannot stand the absurd things
people say about our King simply because he is not seen in
public.

FIRST CITIZEN.  Just fancy!  Any one libelling me can be
punished, while nobody can stop the mouth of any rascal who
chooses to slander the King.

GRANDFATHER.  The slander cannot touch the King.  With a mere
breath you can blow out the flame which a lamp inherits from the
sun, but if all the world blow upon the sun itself its effulgence
remains undimmed and unimpaired as before.

[Enter VISHVAVASU and VIRUPAKSHA]

VISHU.  Here's Grandfather!  Look here, this man is going about
telling everybody that our King does not come out because he is
ugly.

GRANDFATHER.  But why does that make you angry, Vishu?  His King
must be ugly, because how else could Virupaksha possess such
features in his kingdom?  He fashions his King after the image of
himself he sees in the mirror.

VIRUPAKSHA.  Grandfather, I shall mention no names, but nobody
would think of disbelieving the person who gave me the news.

GRANDFATHER.  Who could be a higher authority than yourself!

VIRUPAKSHA.  But I could give you proofs ...

FIRST CITIZEN.  The impudence of this fellow knows no bounds!
Not content with spreading a ghastly rumour with an unabashed
face, he offers to measure his lies with insolence!

SECOND CITIZEN.  Why not make him measure his length on the
ground?

GRANDFATHER.  Why so much heat, my friends?  The poor fellow is
going to have his own festive day by singing the ugliness of his
King.  Go along, Virupaksha, you will find plenty of people ready
to believe you: may you be happy in their company.[Exeunt.]

[Re-enter the party of FOREIGNERS]

BHAVADATTA.  It strikes me, Kaundilya, that these people haven't
got a King at all.  They have somehow managed to keep the rumour
afloat.

KAUNDILYA.  You are right, I think.  We all know that the supreme
thing that strikes one's eye in any country is the King, who of
course loses no opportunity of exhibiting himself.

JANARDAN.  But look at the nice order and regularity prevailing
all over the place--how do you explain it without a King?

BHAVADATTA.  So this is the wisdom you have arrived at by living
so long under a ruler!  Where would be the necessity of having a
King if order and harmony existed already?

JANARDAN.  All these people have assembled to rejoice at this
festival.  Do you think they could come together like this in a
country of anarchy?

BHAVADATTA.  My dear Janardan, you are evading the real issue, as
usual.  There can be no question about the order and regularity,
and the festive rejoicing too is plain enough: there is no
difficulty so far.  But where is the King?  Have you seen him?
Just tell us that.

JANARDAN.  What I want to say is this: you know from your
experience that there can be chaos and anarchy even if a King be
present: but what do we see here?

KAUNDILYA.  You are always coming back to your quibbling.  Why
can you not give a straight answer to Bhavadatta's question--Have
you, or have you not, seen the King?  Yes or no?  [Exeunt.]

[Enter a band of MEN, singing]

SONG.

/*
  My beloved is ever in my heart
    That is why I see him everywhere,
  He is in the pupils of my eyes
    That is why I see him everywhere.
  I went far away to hear his own words,
    But, ah, it was vain!
  When I came back I heard them
    In my own songs.
  Who are you who seek him like a beggar
    from door to door!
  Come to my heart and see his face in the
    tears of my eyes!
*/

[Enter HERALDS and ADVANCE GUARDS of the KING]

FIRST HERALD.  Stand off!  Get away from the street, all of you!

FIRST CITIZEN.  Eh, man, who do you think you are?  You weren't
of course born with such lofty strides, my friend?--Why should we
stand off, my dear sir?  Why should we budge?  Are we street
dogs, or what?

SECOND HERALD.  Our King is coming this way.

SECOND CITIZEN.  King?  Which King?

FIRST HERALD.  Our King, the King of this country.

FIRST CITIZEN.  What, is the fellow mad?  Whoever heard of our
King coming out heralded by these vociferous gentry?

SECOND HERALD.  The King will no longer deny himself to his
subjects.  He is coming to command the festivities himself.

SECOND CITIZEN.  Brother, is that so?

SECOND HERALD.  Look, his banner is flying over there.

SECOND CITIZEN.  Ah, yes, that is a flag indeed.

SECOND HERALD.  Do you see the red <i>Kimshuk</i> flower
painted on it?

SECOND CITIZEN.  Yes, yes, it is the <i>Kimshuk</i>
indeed!--what a bright scarlet flower!

FIRST HERALD.  Well!  do you believe us now?

SECOND CITIZEN.  I never said I didn't.  That fellow Kumbha
started all this fuss.  Did I say a word?

FIRST HERALD.  Perhaps, though a pot-bellied man, he is quite
empty inside; an empty vessel sounds most, you know.

SECOND HERALD.  Who is he?  Is he any kinsman of yours?

SECOND CITIZEN.  Not at all.  He is just a cousin of our village
chief's father-in-law, and he does not even live in the same part
of our village with us.

SECOND HERALD.  Just so: he quite looks the seventh cousin of
somebody's father-in-law, and his understanding appears also to
bear the stamp of uncle-in-lawhood.

KUMBHA.  Alas, my friends, many a bitter sorrow has given my poor
mind a twist before it has become like this.  It is only the
other day that a King came and paraded the streets, with as many
titles in front of him as the drums that made the town hideous by
their din, ...  What did I not do to serve and please him!  I
rained presents on him, I hung about him like a beggar--and in
the end I found the strain on my resources too hard to bear.  But
what was the end of all that pomp and majesty?  When people
sought grants and presents from him, he could not somehow
discover an auspicious day in the Calendar: though all days were
red-letter days when we had to pay our taxes!

SECOND HERALD.  Do you mean to insinuate that our King is a bogus
King like the one you have described?

FIRST HERALD.  Mr.  Uncle-in-law, I believe the time has come for
you to say good-bye to Aunty-in-law.

KUMBHA.  Please, sirs, do not take any offence.  I am a poor
creature--my sincerest apologies, sirs: I will do anything to be
excused.  I am quite willing to move away as far as you like.

SECOND HERALD.  All right, come here and form a line.  The King
will come just now--we shall go and prepare the way for him.
[They go out.]

SECOND CITIZEN.  My dear Kumbha, your tongue will be your death
one day.

KUMBHA.  Friend Madhav, it isn't my tongue, it is fate.  When the
bogus King appeared I never said a word, though that did not
prevent my striking at my own feet with all the self-confidence
of innocence.  And now, when perhaps the real King has come, I
simply must blurt out treason.  It is fate, my dear friend!

MADHAV.  My faith is, to go on obeying the King--it does not
matter whether he is a real one or a pretender.  What do we know
of Kings that we should judge them!  It is like throwing stones
in the dark--you are almost sure of hitting your mark.  I go on
obeying and acknowledging--if it is a real King, well and good:
if not, what harm is there?

KUMBHA.  I should not have minded if the stones were nothing
better than stones.  But they are often precious things: here, as
elsewhere, extravagance lands us in poverty, my friend.

MADHAV.  Look!  There comes the King!  Ah, a King indeed!  What a
figure, what a face!  Whoever saw such beauty--lily-white,
creamy-soft!  What now, Kumbha?  What do you think now?

KUMBHA.  He looks all right--yes, he may be the real King for all
I know.

MADHAV.  He looks as if he were moulded and carved for kingship,
a figure too exquisite and delicate for the common light of day.

[Enter the "KING"]

[Transcriber's note: The author indicates the trumped up King as
"KING" in this play, enclosing the word King in double quotes to
help us distinguish the imposter from the real one.]

MADHAV.  Prosperity and victory attend thee, O King!  We have
been standing here to have a sight of thee since the early
morning.  Forget us not, your Majesty, in your favours.

KUMBHA.  The mystery deepens.  I will go and call
Grandfather.[Goes out.]

[Enter another band of MEN]

FIRST MAN.  The King, the King!  Come along, quick, the King is
passing this way.

SECOND MAN.  Do not forget me, O King!  I am Vivajadatta, the
grandson of Udayadatta of Kushalivastu.  I came here at the first
report of thy coming--I did not stop to hear what people were
saying: all the loyalty in me went out towards thee, O Monarch,
and brought me here.

THIRD MAN.  Rubbish!  I came here earlier than you--before the
cockcrow.  Where were you then?  O King, I am Bhadrasena, of
Vikramasthali.  Deign to keep thy servant in thy memory!

"KING".  I am much pleased with your loyalty and devotion.

VIVAJADATTA.  Your Majesty, many are the grievances and
complaints we have to make to thee: to whom could we turn our
prayers so long, when we could not approach thy august presence?

"KING".  Your grievances will all be redressed.  [Exit.]

FIRST MAN.  It won't do to lag behind, boys--the King will lose
sight of us if we get mixed up with the mob.

SECOND MAN.  See there-look what that fool Narottam is doing!  He
has elbowed his way through all of us and is now sedulously
fanning the King with a palm leaf!

MADHAV.  Indeed!  Well, well, the sheer audacity of the man takes
one's breath away.

SECOND MAN.  We shall have to pitch the fellow out of that
place--is he fit to stand beside the King?

MADHAV.  Do you imagine the King will not see through him?  His
loyalty is obviously a little too showy and profuse.

FIRST MAN.  Nonsense!  Kings can't scent hypocrites as we do--I
should not be surprised if the King be taken in by that fool's
strenuous fanning.

[Enter KUMBHA with GRANDFATHER]

KUMBHA.  I tell you--he has just passed by this street.

GRANDFATHER.  Is that a very infallible test of Kingship?

KUMBHA.  Oh no, he did not pass unobserved: not one or two men
but hundreds and thousands on both sides of the street have seen
him with their own eyes.

GRANDFATHER.  That is exactly what makes the whole affair
suspicious.  When ever has our King set out to dazzle the eyes of
the people by pomp and pageantry?  He is not the King to make
such a thundering row over his progress through the country.

KUMBHA.  But he may just have chosen to do so on this important
occasion: you cannot really tell.

GRANDFATHER.  Oh yes, you can!  My King cherishes no weathercock
fancy, no fantastic vein.

KUMBHA.  But, Grandfather, I wish I could only describe him!  So
soft, so delicate and exquisite like a waxen doll!  As I looked
on him, I yearned to shelter him from the sun, to protect him
with my whole body.

GRANDFATHER.  Fool, O precious ass that you are!  <i>My</i> King
a waxen doll, and you to protect him!

KUMBHA.  But seriously, Grandpa, he is a superb god, a miracle of
beauty: I do not find a single other figure in this vast assembly
that can stand beside his peerless loveliness.

GRANDFATHER.  If my King chose to make himself shown, your eyes
would not have noticed him.  He would not stand out like that
amongst others--he is one of the people, he mingles with the
common populace.

KUMBHA.  But did I not tell you I saw his banner?

GRANDFATHER.  What did you see displayed on his banner?

KUMBHA.  It had a red <i>Kimshuk</i> flower painted on it--the
bright and glittering scarlet dazzled my eyes.

GRANDFATHER.  <i>My</i> King has a thunderbolt within a lotus
painted on his flag.

KUMBHA.  But every one is saying, the King is out in this
festival: <i>every one</i>.

GRANDFATHER.  Why, so he is, of course: but he has no heralds, no
army, no retinue, no music bands or lights to accompany him.

KUMBHA.  So none could recognise him in his incognito, it seems.

GRANDFATHER.  Perhaps there are a few that can.

KUMBHA.  And those that can recognise him--does the King grant
them whatever they ask for?

GRANDFATHER.  But they never ask for anything.  No beggar will
ever know the King.  The greater beggar appears like the King to
the eyes of the lesser beggar.  O fool, the man that has come out
to-day attired in crimson and gold to beg from you--it is him
whom you are trumpeting as your King!  ...  Ah, there comes my
mad friend!  Oh come, my brothers!  we cannot spend the day in
idle wrangling and prating--let us now have some mad frolic, some
wild enjoyment!

[Enter the MAD FRIEND, who sings]

/*
  Do you smile, my friends?  Do you laugh, my brothers?  I roam
    in search of the golden stag!  Ah yes, the fleet-foot vision
    that ever eludes me!

  Oh, he flits and glimpses like a flash and then is gone, the
    untamed rover of the wilds!  Approach him and he is afar in a
    trice, leaving a cloud of haze and dust before thy eyes!

  Yet I roam in search of the golden stag, though I may never
    catch him in these wilds!  Oh, I roam and wander through
    woods and fields and nameless lands like a restless vagabond,
    never caring to turn my back.

  You all come and buy in the marketplace and go back to your
    homes laden with goods and provisions: but me the wild winds
    of unscalable heights have touched and kissed--Oh, I know not
    when or where!

  I have parted with my all to get what never has become mine!
    And yet think my moanings and my tears are for the things I
    thus have lost!

  With a laugh and a song in my heart I have left all sorrow and
    grief far behind me: Oh, I roam and wander through woods and
    fields and nameless lands--never caring to turn my vagabond's
    back!
*/




II


[A DarkChamber.  QUEEN SUDARSHANA.  Her Maid of Honour,
SURANGAMA]

SUDARSHANA.  Light, light!  Where is light?  Will the lamp never
be lighted in this chamber?

SURANGAMA.  My Queen, all your other rooms are lighted--will you
never long to escape from the light into a dark room like this?

SUDARSHANA.  But why should this room be kept dark?

SURANGAMA.  Because otherwise you would know neither light nor
darkness.

SUDARSHANA.  Living in this dark room you have grown to speak
darkly and strangely--I cannot understand you, Surangama.  But
tell me, in what part of the palace is this chamber situated?  I
cannot make out either the entrance or the way out of this room.

SURANGAMA.  This room is placed deep down, in the very heart of
the earth.  The King has built this room specially for your sake.

SUDARSHANA.  Why, he has no dearth of rooms--why need he have
made this chamber of darkness specially for me?

SURANGAMA.  You can meet others in the lighted rooms: but only in
this dark room can you meet your lord.

SUDARSHANA.  No, no--I cannot live without light--I am restless
in this stifling dark.  Surangama, if you can bring a light into
this room, I shall give you this necklace of mine.

SURANGAMA.  It is not in my power, O Queen.  How can I bring
light to a place which he would have kept always dark!

SUDARSHANA.  Strange devotion!  And yet, is it not true that the
King punished your father?

SURANGAMA.  Yes, that is true.  My father used to gamble.  All
the young men of the country used to gather at my father's
house-and they used to drink and gamble.

SUDARSHANA.  And when the King sent away your father in exile,
did it not make you feel bitterly oppressed?

SURANGAMA.  Oh, it made me quite furious.  I was on the road to
ruin and destruction: when that path was closed for me, I seemed
left without any support, without any succour or shelter.  I
raged and raved like a wild beast in a cage--how I wanted to tear
every one to pieces in my powerless anger!

SUDARSHANA.  But how did you get this devotion towards that same
King?

SURANGAMA .  How can I tell?  Perhaps I could rely and depend on
him because he was so hard, so pitiless!

SUDARSHANA.  When did this change of feeling take place?

SURANGAMA.  I could not tell you--I do not know that myself.  A
day came when all the rebel in me knew itself beaten, and then my
whole nature bowed down in humble resignation on the dust of the
earth.  And then I saw ...  I saw that he was as matchless in
beauty as in terror.  Oh.  I was saved, I was rescued.

SUDARSHANA.  Tell me, Surangama, I implore you, won't you tell me
what is the King like to look at?  I have not seen him yet for a
single day.  He comes to me in darkness, and leaves me in this
dark room again.  How many people have I not asked--but they all
return vague and dark answers--it seems to me that they all keep
back something.

SURANGAMA.  To tell you the truth, Queen, I could not say well
what he is like.  No--he is not what men call handsome.

SUDARSHANA.  You don't say so?  Not handsome!

SURANGAMA.  No, my Queen, he is not handsome.  To call him
beautiful would be to say far too little about him.

SUDARSHANA.  All your words are like that--dark, strange, and
vague.  I cannot understand what you mean.

SURANGAMA.  No, I will not call him handsome.  And it is because
he is not beautiful that he is so wonderful, so superb, so
miraculous!

SUDARSHANA.  I do not quite understand you--though I like to hear
you talk about him.  But I must see him at any cost.  I do not
even remember the day when I was married to him.  I have heard
mother say that a wise man came before my marriage and said, "He
who will wed your daughter is without a second on this earth."
How often have I asked her to describe his appearance to me, but
she only answers vaguely, and says she cannot say--she saw him
through a veil, faintly and obscurely.  But if he is the best
among men, how can I sit still without seeing him?

SURANGAMA.  Do you not feel a faint breeze blowing?

SUDARSHANA.  A breeze?  Where?

SURANGAMA.  Do you not smell a soft perfume?

SUDARSHANA.  No, I don't.

SURANGAMA.  The large door has opened ...  he is coming; my King
is coming in.

SUDARSHANA.  How can you perceive when he comes?

SURANGAMA.  I cannot say: I seem to hear his footsteps in my own
heart.  Being his servant of this dark chamber, I have developed
a sense--I can know and feel without seeing.

SUDARSHANA.  Would that I had this sense too, Surangama!

SURANGAMA.  You will have it, O Queen ...  this sense will awaken
in you one day.  Your longing to have a sight of him makes you
restless, and therefore all your mind is strained and warped in
that direction.  When you are past this state of feverish
restlessness, everything will become quite easy.

SUDARSHANA.  How is it that it is easy to you, who are a servant,
and so difficult to me, the Queen?

SURANGAMA.  It is because I am a mere servant that no difficulty
baulks me.  On the first day, when he left this room to my care,
saying, "Surangama, you will always keep this chamber ready for
me: this is all your task," then I did not say, even in thought,
"Oh, give me the work of those who keep the other rooms lighted."
No, but as soon as I bent all my mind to my task, a power woke
and grew within me, and mastered every part of me unopposed....
Oh, there he comes!  ...  he is standing outside, before the
door.  Lord!  O King!

SONG outside.

/*
  Open your door.  I am waiting.
  The ferry of the light from the dawn to the dark is done for
    the day,
    The evening star is up.
  Have you gathered your flowers, braided your hair,
    And donned your white robe for the night?
  The cattle have come to their folds and birds to their nests.
  The cross paths that run to all quarters have merged into one
    in the dark.
    Open your door.  I am waiting.
*/

SURANGAMA.  O King, who can keep thy own doors shut against thee?
They are not locked or bolted--they will swing wide open if you
only touch them with thy fingers.  Wilt thou not even touch them?
Wilt thou not enter unless I go and open the doors?

SONG.

/*
  At a breath you can remove my veils, my lord!
  If I fall asleep on the dust and hear not your call, would you
    wait till I wake?
  Would not the thunder of your chariot wheel make the earth
    tremble?
  Would you not burst open the door and enter your own house
    unbidden?
*/

Then do you go, O Queen, and open the door for him: he will not
enter otherwise.

SUDARSHANA.  I do not see anything distinctly in the dark--I do
not know where the doors are.  You know everything here--go and
open the doors for me.

[SURANGAMA opens the door, bows to the KING, and goes out.  The
KING will remain invisible throughout this play.]

SUDARSHANA.  Why do you not allow me to see you in the light?

KING.  So you want to see me in the midst of a thousand things in
broad daylight!  Why should I not be the only thing you can feel
in this darkness?

SUDARSHANA.  But I must see you--I am longing to have a sight of
you.

KING.  You will not be able to bear the sight of me--it will only
give you pain, poignant and overpowering.

SUDARSHANA.  How can you say that I shall be unable to bear your
sight?  Oh, I can feel even in this dark how lovely and wonderful
you are: why should I be afraid of you in the light?  But tell
me, can you see me in the dark?

KING.  Yes, I can.

SUDARSHANA.  What do you see?

KING.  I see that the darkness of the infinite heavens, whirled
into life and being by the power of my love, has drawn the light
of a myriad stars into itself, and incarnated itself in a form of
flesh and blood.  And in that form, what aeons of thought and
striving, untold yearnings of limitless skies, the countless
gifts of unnumbered seasons!

SUDARSHANA.  Am I so wonderful, so beautiful?  When I hear you
speak so, my heart swells with gladness and pride.  But how can I
believe the wonderful things you tell me?  I cannot find them in
myself!

KING.  Your own mirror will not reflect them--it lessens you,
limits you, makes you look small and insignificant.  But could
you see yourself mirrored in my own mind, how grand would you
appear!  In my own heart you are no longer the daily individual
which you think you are--you are verily my second self.

SUDARSHANA.  Oh, do show me for an instant how to see with your
eyes!  Is there nothing at all like darkness to you?  I am afraid
when I think of this.  This darkness which is to me real and
strong as death--is this simply nothing to you?  Then how can
there be any union at all between us, in a place like this?  No,
no--it is impossible: there is a barrier betwixt us two: not here,
no, not in this place.  I want to find you and see you where I
see trees and animals, birds and stones and the earth

KING.  Very well, you can try to find me--but none will point me
out to you.  You will have to recognise me, if you can, yourself.
And even if anybody professes to show me to you, how can you be
sure he is speaking the truth?

SUDARSHANA.  I shall know you; I shall recognise you.  I shall
find you out among a million men.  I cannot be mistaken.

KING.  Very well, then, to-night, during the festival of the full
moon of the spring, you will try to find me out from the high
turret of my palace--search for me with your own eyes amongst the
crowd of people.

SUDARSHANA.  Wilt thou be there among them?

KING.  I shall show myself again and again, from every side of
the crowd.  Surangama!

[Enter SURANGAMA]

SURANGAMA.  What is thy pleasure, lord?

KING.  To-night is the full moon festival of the spring.

SURANGAMA.  What have I to do to-night?

KING.  To-day is a festive day, not a day of work.  The pleasure
gardens are in their full bloom--you will join in my festivities
there.

SURANGAMA.  I shall do as thou desirest, lord.

KING.  The Queen wants to see me to-night with her own eyes.

SURANGAMA.  Where will the Queen see you?

KING.  Where the music will play at its sweetest, where the air
will be heavy with the dust of flowers--there in the pleasure
grove of silver light and mellow gloom.

SURANGAMA.  What can be seen in the hide-and-seek of darkness and
light?  There the wind is wild and restless, everything is dance
and swift movement--will it not puzzle the eyes?

KING.  The Queen is curious to search me out.

SURANGAMA.  Curiosity will have to come back baffled and in
tears!

SONG.

/*
  Ah, they would fly away, the restless vagrant eyes, the wild
    birds of the forest!
  But the time of their surrender will come, their flights hither
    and thither will be ended when
  The music of enchantment will pursue them and pierce their
    hearts.
    Alas, the wild birds would fly to the wilderness!
*/




III


[Before the Pleasure Gardens.  Enter AVANTI, KOSHALA, KANCHI, and
other KINGS]

AVANTI.  Will the King of this place not receive us?

KANCHI.  What manner of governing a country is this?  The King is
having a festival in a forest, where even the meanest and
commonest people can have easy access!

KOSHALA.  We ought to have had a separate place set apart and
ready for our reception.

KANCHI.  If he has not prepared such a place yet, we shall compel
him to have one erected for us.

KOSHALA.  All this makes one naturally suspect if these people
have really got any King at all--it looks as if an unfounded
rumour has led us astray.

AVANTI.  It may be so with regard to the King, but the Queen
Sudarshana of this place isn't at all an unfounded rumour.

KOSHALA.  It is only for her sake that I have cared to come at
all.  I don't mind omitting to see one who never makes himself
visible, but it would be a stupid mistake if we were to go away
without a sight of one who is eminently worth a visit.

KANCHI.  Let us make some definite plan, then.

AVANTI.  A plan is an excellent thing, so long as you are not
yourself entangled in it.

KANCHI.  Hang it, who are these vermin swarming this way?  Here!
who are you?

[Enter GRANDFATHER and the boys]

GRANDFATHER.  We are the Jolly Band of Have-Nothings.

AVANTI.  The introduction was superfluous.  But you will take
yourselves away a little further and leave us in peace.

GRANDFATHER.  We never suffer from a want of space: we can afford
to give you as wide a berth as you like.  What little suffices
for us is never the bone of contention between any rival
claimants.  Is not that so, my little friends?  [They sing.]

SONG.

/*
  We have nothing, indeed we have nothing at all!
    We sing merrily fol de rol de rol!
  Some build high walls of their houses
    On the bog of the sands of gold.
  We stand before them and sing
      Fol de rol de rol.
  Pickpockets hover about us
    And honour us with covetous glances.
  We shake our empty pockets and sing
      Fol de rol de rol.
  When death, the old hag, steals to our doors
    We snap our fingers at her face,
  And we sing in a chorus with gay flourishes
      Fol de rol de rol.
*/

KANCHI.  Look over there, Koshala, who are those coming this way?
A pantomime?  Somebody is out masquerading as a King.

KOSHALA.  The King of this place may tolerate all this
tomfoolery, but we won't.

AVANTI.  He is perhaps some rural chief.

[Enter GUARDS on foot]

KANCHI.  What country does your King come from?

FIRST SOLDIER.  He is the King of this country.  He is going to
command the festivities.  [They go out.]

KOSHALA.  What!  The King of this country come out for the
festivities!

AVANTI.  Indeed!  We shall then have to return with a sight of
him only--leaving the delectable Queen unseen.

KANCHI.  Do you really think that fellow spoke the truth?
Anybody can pass himself off as the King of this kingless
country.  Can you not see that the man looks like a dressed-up
King--much too over-dressed?

AVANTI.  But he looks handsome--his appearance is not without a
certain pleasing attractiveness.

KANCHI.  He may be pleasing to your eye, but if you look at him
closely enough there can be no mistaking him .  You will see how
I expose him before you all.

[Enter the trumped-up "KING".]

"KING".  Welcome, princes, to our kingdom!  I trust your
reception has been properly looked after by my officials?

KINGS.  [with feigned courtesy] Oh yes--nothing was lacking in
the reception.

KANCHI.  If there was any shortcoming at all, it has been made up
by the honour of our sight of your Majesty.

"KING".  We do not show ourselves to the general public, but your
great devotion and loyalty to us has made it a pleasure for us
not to deny ourselves to you.

KANCHI.  It is truly hard for us, your Majesty, to bear the
weight of your gracious favours.

"KING".  We are afraid we shall not be able to stop here long.

KANCHI.  I have thought so, already: you do not quite look up to
it.

"KING".  In the meantime if you have any favours to ask of us

KANCHI.  We have: but we would like to speak a little more in
private.

"KING".  [to his attendants] Retire a little from our presence.
[They retire.] Now you can express your desires without any
reserve.

KANCHI.  There will be no reserve on our part--our only fear is
that you might think restraint necessary for yourself.

"KING".  Oh no, you need have no scruples on that score.

KANCHI.  Come, then, do us homage by placing your head on the
ground before us.

"KING".  It seems my servants have distributed the Varuni spirits
too liberally in the reception camps.

KANCHI.  False pretender, it is you who are suffering from an
overdose of arrogant spirits.  Your head will soon kiss the dust.

"KING".  Princes, these heavy jokes are not worthy of a king.

KANCHI.  Those who will jest properly with you are near at hand.
General!

"KING".  No more, I entreat you.  I can see plainly I owe homage to
you all.  The head is bowing down of itself--there is no need for
the application of any sharp methods to lay it low.  So here I do
my obeisance to you all.  If you kindly allow me to escape I
shall not inflict my presence long on you.

KANCHI.  Why should you escape?  We will make you king of this
place--let us carry our joke to its legitimate finish.  Have you
got any following?

"KING".  I have.  Every one who sees me in the streets flocks after
me.  When I had a meagre retinue at first every one regarded me
with suspicion, but now with the increasing crowd their doubts
are waning and dissolving.  The crowd is being hypnotised by its
own magnitude.  I have not got to do anything now.

KANCHI.  That's excellent!  From this moment we all promise to
help and stand by you.  But you will have to do us one service in
return.

"KING".  Your commands and the crown you are putting on my head
will be equally binding and sacred to me.

KANCHI.  At present we want nothing more than a sight of the
Queen Sudarshana.  You will have to see to this.

"KING".  I shall spare no pains for that.

KANCHI.  We cannot put much faith on your pains--you will be
solely directed by our instructions.  But now you can go and join
the festivities in the royal arbour with all possible splendour
and magnificence.[They go out.]

[Enter GRANDFATHER and a band of people]

FIRST CITIZEN.  Grandfather, I cannot help saying--yes, and
repeating it five hundred times--that our King is a perfect
fraud.

GRANDFATHER.  Why only five hundred times?  There is no need to
practise such heroic self-control--you can say it five thousand
times if that adds to your pleasure.

SECOND CITIZEN.  But you cannot keep up a dead lie forever.

GRANDFATHER.  It has made me alive, my friend.

THIRD CITIZEN.  We shall proclaim to the whole world that our
King is a lie, the merest and emptiest shadow!

FIRST CITIZEN.  We shall all shout from our housetops that we
have no King--let him do whatever he likes if he exists.

GRANDFATHER.  He will do nothing at all.

SECOND CITIZEN.  My son died untimely at twenty-five of raging
fever in seven days.  Could such a calamity befall me under the
rule of a virtuous King?

GRANDFATHER.  But you still have got two sons left: while I have
lost all my five children one after another.

THIRD CITIZEN.  What do you say now?

GRANDFATHER.  What then?  Shall I lose my King too because I have
lost my children?  Don't take me for such a big fool as that.

FIRST CITIZEN.  It is a fine thing to argue whether there is a
King or not when one is simply starving for want of food!  Will
the King save us?

GRANDFATHER.  Brother, you are right.  But why not <i>find</i>
the King who owns all the food?  You certainly will not find by
your wailings at home.

SECOND CITIZEN.  Look at the justice of our King!  That
Bhadrasen--you know what a touching sight he is when he is
speaking of his King--the sentimental idiot!  He is reduced to
such a state of penury that even the bats that infest his house
find it a too uncomfortable place.

GRANDFATHER.  Why, look at me!  I am toiling and slaving night
and day for my King, but I have not yet received so much as a
brass farthing for my pains.

THIRD CITIZEN.  Now, what do you think of that?

GRANDFATHER.  What should I think?  Does any one reward his
friends?  Go, my friends, and say if you like that our King
exists nowhere.  That is also a part of our ceremony in
celebrating this festival.




IV


[Turret of the Royal Palace.  SUDARSHANA and her friend ROHINI]

SUDARSHANA.  You may make mistakes, Rohini, but I cannot be
mistaken: am I not the Queen?  That, of course, must be my King.

ROHINI.  He who has conferred such high honour upon you cannot be
long in showing himself to you.

SUDARSHANA.  His very form makes me restless like a caged bird.
Did you try well to ascertain who he is?

ROHINI.  Yes, I did.  Every one I asked said that he was the
King.

SUDARSHANA.  What country is he the King of?

ROHINI.  Our country, King of this land.

SUDARSHANA.  Are you sure that you are speaking of him who has a
sunshade made of flowers held over his head?

ROHINI.  The same: he whose flag has the <i>Kimshuk</i> flower
painted on it.

SUDARSHANA.  I recognised him at once, of course, but it is you
who had your doubts.

ROHINI.  We are apt to make mistakes, my Queen, and we are afraid
to offend you in case we are wrong.

SUDARSHANA.  Would that Surangama were here!  There would remain
no room for doubt then.

ROHINI.  Do you think her cleverer than any of us?

SUDARSHANA.  Oh no, but she would recognise him instantly.

ROHINI.  I cannot believe that she would.  She merely pretends to
know him.  There is none to test her knowledge if she professes
to know the King.  If we were as shameless as she is, it would
not have been difficult for us to boast about our acquaintance
with the King.

SUDARSHANA.  But no, she never boasts.

ROHINI.  It is pure affectation, the whole of it: which often
goes a longer way than open boasting.  She is up to all manner of
tricks: that is why we could never like her.

SUDARSHANA.  But whatever you may say, I should have liked to ask
her if she were here.

ROHINI.  Very well, Queen.  I shall bring her here.  She must be
lucky if she is indispensable for the Queen to know the King.

SUDARSHANA.  Oh no--it isn't for that--but I would like to hear
it said by every one.

ROHINI.  Is not every one saying it?  Why, just listen, the
acclamations of the people mount up even to this height!

SUDARSHANA.  Then do one thing: put these flowers on a lotus
leaf, and take them to him.

ROHINI.  And what am I to say if he asks who sends them?

SUDARSHANA.  You will not have to say anything--he will know.  He
thought that I would not be able to recognise him: I cannot let
him off without showing that I have found him out.
[ROHINI goes out with the flowers.]

SUDARSHANA.  My heart is all a-quiver and restless to-night: I
have never felt like this before.  The white, silver light of the
full moon is flooding the heavens and brimming over on every side
like the bubbling foam of wine, ...  It seizes on me like a
yearning, like a mantling intoxication.  Here, who is here?

[Enter a SERVANT]

SERVANT.  What is your pleasure, your Majesty?

SUDARSHANA.  Do you see those festive boys singing and moving
through the alleys and avenues of the mango trees?  Call them
hither, bring them to me: I want to hear them sing.  [SERVANT
goes out and enters with the boys.]  Come, living emblems of
youthful spring, begin your festive song!  All my mind and body
is song and music to-night--but the ineffable melody escapes my
tongue: do you then sing for my sake!

SONG.

/*
  My sorrow is sweet to me in this spring night.
  My pain smites at the chords of my love and softly sings.
  Visions take birth from my yearning eyes and flit in the
    moonlit sky.
  The smells from the depths of the woodlands have lost their way
    in my dreams.
  Words come in whispers to my ears, I know not from where,
  And bells in my anklets tremble and jingle in time with my
    heart thrills.
*/

SUDARSHANA.  Enough, enough--I cannot bear it any more!  Your
song has filled my eyes with tears....  A fancy comes to me--that
desire can never attain its object--it need never attain it.
What sweet hermit of the woods has taught you this song?  Oh that
my eyes could see him whose song my ears have heard!  Oh, how I
wish--I wish I could wander rapt and lovely in the thick woodland
arbours of the heart!  Dear boys of the hermitage! how shall I
reward you?  This necklace is but made of jewels, hard stones--
its hardness will give you pain--I have got nothing like the
garlands of flowers you have on.  [The boys bow and go out.]

[Enter ROHINI]

SUDARSHANA.  I have not done well--I have not done well, Rohini.
I feel ashamed to ask you what happened.  I have just realised
that no hand can really give the greatest of gifts.  Still, let
me hear all.

ROHINI.  When I gave the King those flowers, he did not appear to
understand anything.

SUDARSHANA.  You don't say so?  He did not understand

ROHINI.  No; he sat there like a doll, without uttering a single
word.  I think he did not want to show that he understood
nothing, so he just held his tongue.

SUDARSHANA.  Fie on me!  My shamelessness has been justly
punished.  Why did you not bring back my flowers?

ROHINI.  How could I?  The King of Kanchi, a very clever man, who
was sitting by him, took in everything at a glance, and he just
smiled a bit and said, "Emperor, the Queen Sudarshana sends your
Majesty her greetings with these blossoms--the blossoms that
belong to the God of Love, the friend of Spring."  The King
seemed to awake with a start, and said, "This is the crown of all
my regal glory to-night."  I was coming back, all out of
countenance, when the King of Kanchi took off this necklace of
jewels from the King's person, and said to me, "Friend, the
King's garland gives itself up to you, in return for the happy
fortune you have brought."

SUDARSHANA.  What, Kanchi had to make the King understand all
this!  Woe is me, to-night's festival has opened wide for me the
doors of ignominy and shame!  What else could I expect?  Leave me
alone, Rohini; I want solitude for a time.  [ROHINI goes out.]  A
great blow has shattered my pride to atoms to-day, and yet ...  I
cannot efface from my mind that beautiful, fascinating figure!
No pride is left me--I am beaten, vanquished, utterly helpless....
I cannot even turn away from him.  Oh, how the wish comes back to
me again and again--to ask that garland of Rohini!  But what
would she think!  Rohini!

[Enter ROHINI]

ROHINI.  What is your wish?

SUDARSHANA.  What reward do you deserve for your services to-day?

ROHINI.  Nothing from you--but I had my reward from the King as
it should be.

SUDARSHANA.  That is no free gift, but an extortion, of reward.
I do not like to see you put on what was given in so indifferent
a manner.  Take it off--I give you my bracelets if you leave it
here.  Take these bracelets, and go now.  [ROHINI goes out.]
Another defeat!  I should have thrown this necklace away,--but I
could not!  It is pricking me as if it were a garland of thorns--
but I cannot throw it away.  This is what the god of the festival
has brought me to-night--this necklace of ignominy and shame!




V


[GRANDFATHER near the door of the Pleasure House.  A Company of
MEN]

GRANDFATHER.  Have you had enough of it, friends?

FIRST MAN.  Oh, more than that, Grandpa.  Just see, they have
made me red all over.  None has escaped.

[Author's note: During the spring festival in India people throw
red powder on each other.  In this play this red powder has been
taken to be the symbol of the passion of love.]

GRANDFATHER.  No?  Did they throw the red dust on the Kings too?

SECOND MAN.  But who could approach them?  They were all secure
inside the enclosures.

GRANDFATHER.  So they have escaped you!  Could you not throw the
least bit of colour on them?  You should have forced your way
there.

THIRD MAN.  My dear old man, they have a different sort of red
specially to themselves.  Their eyes are red: the turbans of
their guards and retinue are red too.  And the latter flourished
their swords about so much that a little more nearness on our
part would have meant a lavish display of the fundamental red
colour.

GRANDFATHER.  Well done, friends--always keep them at a distance.
They are the exiles of the Earth--and we have got to keep them
so.

THIRD MAN.  I am going home, Grandpa; it is past midnight.[Goes
out.]

[Enter a BAND of SINGERS, singing.]

/*
  All blacks and whites have lost their distinction
  And have become red--red as the tinge of your feet.
  Red is my bodice and red are my dreams,
  My heart sways and trembles like a red lotus.
*/

GRANDFATHER.  Excellent, my friends, splendid!  So you had a
really enjoyable time!

SINGERS.  Oh, grand!  Everything was red, red!  Only the moon in
the sky gave us the slip--it remained white.

GRANDFATHER.  He only looks so innocent from the outside.  If you
had only taken off his white disguise, you would have seen his
trickery.  I have been watching what red colours he is throwing
on the Earth to-night.  And yet, fancy his remaining white and
colourless all the while!

SONG.

/*
  With you is my game, love, my love!
  My heart is mad, it will never own defeat,
  Do you think you will escape stainless yourself reddening me
    with red powder?
  Could I not colour your robe with the red pollens of the
    blossom of my heart?
*/

[They go out.]

[Enter the "KING" and KANCHI.]

KANCHI.  You must do exactly as I have told you.  Let there be no
mistake of any kind.

"KING".  There shall be no mistake.

KANCHI.  The Queen Sudarshana's mansions are in the ...

"KING".  Yes, sire, I have seen the place well.

KANCHI.  What you have got to do is to set fire to the garden,
and then you will take advantage of the bustle and confusion to
accomplish your object straightway.

"KING".  I shall remember.

KANCHI.  Look here, Sir Pretender, I cannot help thinking that a
needless fear is troubling us--there is really no King in this
country.

"KING".  My sole aim is to rid this country of this anarchy.  Your
common man cannot live without a King, whether a real one or a
fraud!  Anarchy is always a source of danger.

KANCHI.  Pious benefactor of the people, your wonderful self-
sacrifice should really be an example to all of us.  I am
thinking of doing this extraordinary service to the people
myself.  [They go out.]




VI


ROHINI.  What is the matter?  I cannot make out what is all this!
[To the GARDENERS.] Where are you all going away in such a hurry?

FIRST GARDENER.  We are going out of the garden.

ROHINI.  Where?

SECOND GARDENER.  We do not know where--the King has called us.

ROHINI.  Why, the King is in the garden.  Which King has called
you?

FIRST GARDENER.  We cannot say.

SECOND GARDENER.  The King we have been serving all our life, of
course.

ROHINI.  Will you all go?

FIRST GARDENER.  Yes, all--we have to go instantly.  Otherwise we
might get into trouble.  [They go out.]

ROHINI.  I cannot understand their words....  I am afraid.  They
are scampering off like wild animals that fly just before the
bank of a river breaks down into the water.

[Enter KING OF KOSHALA]

KOSHALA.  Rohini, do you know where your King and Kanchi have
gone?

ROHINI.  They are somewhere in the garden, but I could not tell
you where.

KOSHALA.  I cannot really understand their intentions.  I have
not done well to put my trust in Kanchi.  [Exit.]

ROHINI.  What is this dark affair going on amongst these kings?
Something dreadful is going to happen soon.  Shall I too be drawn
into this affair?  [Enter AVANTI]

AVANTI.  Rohini, do you know where the other princes are?

ROHINI.  It is difficult to say which of them is where.  The King
of Koshala just passed by in this direction.

AVANTI.  I am not thinking of Koshala.  Where are your King and
Kanchi?

ROHINI.  I have not seen them for a long time.

AVANTI.  Kanchi is always avoiding us.  He is certainly planning
to deceive us all.  I have not done well to put my hand in this
imbroglio.  Friend, could you kindly tell me any way out of this
garden?

ROHINI.  I have none.

AVANTI.  Is there no man here who will show me the way out?

ROHINI.  The servants have all left the garden.

AVANTI.  Why did they do so?

ROHINI.  I could not exactly understand what they meant.  They
said the King had commanded them to leave the garden at once.

AVANTI.  King?  Which King?  Rohini They could not say exactly.

AVANTI.  This does not sound well.  I shall have to find a way
out at any cost.  I cannot stay here a single moment more.  [Goes
out hurriedly.]

ROHINI.  Where shall I find the King?  When I gave him the
flowers the Queen had sent, he did not seem much interested in me
at the time; but ever since that hour he has been showering gifts
and presents on me.  This causeless generosity makes me more
afraid....  Where are the birds flying at such an hour of the
night?  What has frightened them all of a sudden?  This is not
the usual time of their flight, certainly, ...  Why is the
Queen's pet deer running that way?  Chapata!  Chapata!  She does
not even hear my call.  I have never seen a night like this!  The
horizon on every side suddenly becomes red, like a madman's eye!
The sun seems to be setting at this untimely hour on all sides at
the same time.  What madness of the Almighty is this!  ...  Oh, I
am frightened!  ...  Where shall I find the King?




VII


[At the Door of the QUEEN'S Palace]

"KING".  What is this you have done, Kanchi?

KANCHI.  I wanted to fire only this part of the garden near the
palace.  I had no idea that it would spread so quickly on all
sides.  Tell me, quick, the way out of this garden.

"KING".  I can tell you nothing about it.  Those who brought us
here have all fled away.




VII


KANCHI.  You are a native of this country--you must know the way.

"KING".  I have never entered these inner royal gardens before.

KANCHI.  I won't hear of it--you must show me the way, or I shall
split you into halves.

"KING".  You may take my life by that means, but it would be a very
precarious method of finding the way out of this garden.

KANCHI.  Why were you, then, going about saying that you were the
King of this country?

"KING".  I am not the King--I am not the King.  [Throwing himself
on the ground with folded hands.]  Where art thou, my King?  Save
me, oh, save me!  I am a rebel--punish me, but do not kill me!

KANCHI.  What is the use of shouting and cringing to the empty
air?  It is a much better way of spending the time to search for
the way.

"KING".  I shall lie down here--I shall not move an inch.  Come
what will, I shall not complain.

KANCHI.  I will not allow all this nonsense.  If I am to be burnt
to death, you will be my companion to the very end.

FROM THE OUTSIDE.  Oh, save us, save us, our King!  The fire is
on all sides of us!

KANCHI.  Fool, get up, lose no more time.

SUDARSHANA.  [entering] King, O my King!  save me, save me from
death!  I am surrounded by fire.

"KING".  Who is the King?  I am no King.

SUDARSHANA.  You are not the King?

"KING".  No, I am a hypocrite, I am a scoundrel.  [Flinging his
crown on the ground.]  Let my deception and hypocrisy be shattered
into dust!  [Goes out with KANCHI.]

SUDARSHANA.  No King!  He is not the King?  Then, O thou God of
fire, burn me, reduce me to ashes!  I shall throw myself into thy
hands, O thou great purifier; burn to ashes my shame, my longing,
my desire.

ROHINI.  [entering] Queen, where are you going?  All your inner
chambers are shrouded in raging fire--do you not enter there.

SUDARSHANA.  Yes!  I will enter those burning chambers!  It is
the fire of my death!  [Enters the Palace.]




VIII


[The Dark Room.  The KING and SUDARSRANA]

KING.  Do not be afraid--you have no cause for fear.  The fire
will not reach this room.

SUDARSHANA.  I have no fear--but oh, shame has accompanied me
like a raging fire.  My face, my eyes, my heart, every part of my
body is being scorched and burnt by its flames.

KING.  It will be some time before you get over this burning.

SUDARSHANA.  This fire will never cease-will never cease!

KING.  Do not be despondent, Queen!

SUDARSHANA.  O King, I shall not hide anything from you....  I
have another's garland round my neck.

KING.  That garland, too, is mine--how else could he get it?  He
stole it from my room.

SUDARSHANA.  But it is <i>his</i> gift to me: yet I could not
fling this garland away!  When the fire came roaring on all
sides of me, I thought of throwing this garland into the fire.
But no, I could not.  My mind whispered, "Let that garland be
on you in your death." ...  What fire is this, O King, into
which I, who had come out to see you, leaped like a moth that
cannot resist the flame?  What a pain is this, oh, what agony!
The fire keeps burning as fiercely as ever, but I go on
living within its flames!

KING.  But you have seen me at last--your desire has been
fulfilled.

SUDARSHANA.  But did I seek to see you in the midst of this
fearful doom?  I know not what I saw, but my heart is still
beating fast with fear.

KING.  What did you see?

SUDARSHANA.  Terrible,--oh, it was terrible!  I am afraid even to
think of it again.  Black, black--oh, thou art black like the
everlasting night!  I only looked on thee for one dreadful
instant.  The blaze of the fire fell on your features--you looked
like the awful night when a comet swings fearfully into our ken--
oh, then I closed my eyes--I could not look on you any more.
Black as the threatening storm-cloud, black as the shoreless sea
with the spectral red tint of twilight on its tumultuous waves!

KING.  Have I not told you before that one cannot bear my sight
unless one is already prepared for me?  One would want to run
away from me to the ends of the earth.  Have I not seen this
times without number?  That is why I wanted to reveal myself to
you slowly and gradually, not all too sudden.

SUDARSHANA.  But sin came and destroyed all your hopes--the very
possibility of a union with you has now become unthinkable to me.

KING.  It will be possible in time, my Queen.  The utter and
bleak blackness that has to-day shaken you to your soul with fear
will one day be your solace and salvation.  What else can my love
exist for?

SUDARSHANA.  It cannot be, it is not possible.  What will your
love only do?  <i>My</i> love has now turned away from you.
Beauty has cast its spell on me--this frenzy, this intoxication
will never leave me--it has dazzled and fired my eyes, it has
thrown its golden glamour over my very dreams!  I have told you
all now--punish me as you like.

KING.  The punishment has already begun.

SUDARSHANA.  But if you do not cast me off.  I will leave you

KING.  You have the utmost liberty to do as you like.

SUDARSHANA.  I cannot bear your presence!  My heart is angry at
you.  Why did you--but what have you done to me? ...  Why are
you like this?  Why did they tell me you were fair and handsome?
Thou art black, black as night--I shall never, I can never, like
you.  I have seen what I love--it is soft as cream, delicate as
the <i>shirisha</i> flower, beautiful as a butterfly.

KING.  It is false as a mirage, empty as a bubble.

SUDARSHANA.  Let it be--but I cannot stand near you--I simply
cannot!  I must fly away from here.  Union with you, it cannot be
possible!  It cannot be anything but a false union--my mind must
inevitably turn away from you.

KING.  Will you not even try a little?

SUDARSHANA.  I have been trying since yesterday--but the more I
try, the more rebellious does my heart become.  If I stay with
you I shall constantly be pursued and hounded by the thought that
I am impure, that I am false and faithless.

KING.  Well then, you can go as far from me as you like.

SUDARSHANA.  I cannot fly away from you--just because you do not
prevent my going.  Why do you not hold me back, hold me by the
hair, saying, "You shall not go"?  Why do you not strike me?  Oh,
punish me, strike me, beat me with violent hands!  But your
unresisting silence makes me wild--oh, I cannot bear it!

KING.  How do you think that I am really silent?  How do you know
that I am not trying to keep you back?

SUDARSHANA.  Oh, no, no !--I cannot bear this--tell me aloud,
command me with the voice of thunder, compel me with words that
will drown everything else in my ears--do not let me off so
easily, so mildly!

KING.  I shall leave you free, but why should I let you break
away from me?

SUDARSHANA.  You will not let me?  Well then, I must go!

KING.  Go then!

SUDARSHANA.  Then I am not to blame at all.  You could have held
me back by force, but you did not!  You have not hindered me--and
now I shall go away.  Command your sentinels to prevent my going.

KING.  No one will stand in your way.  You can go as free as the
broken storm-cloud driven by the tempest.

SUDARSHANA.  I can resist no more--something in me is impelling
me forward--I am breaking away from my anchor!  Perhaps I shall
sink, but I shall return no more.  [She rushes out.]

[Enter SURANGAMA, who sings]

SURANGAMA.  What will of thine is this that sends me afar!  Again
shall I come back at thy feet from all my wanderings.  It is thy
love that feigns this neglect--thy caressing hands are pushing me
away--to draw me back to thy arms again!  O my King, what is this
game that thou art playing throughout thy kingdom?

SUDARSHANA.  [re-entering] King, O King!

SURANGAMA.  He has gone away.

SUDARSHANA.  Gone away?  Well then, ...  then he has cast me off
for good!  I have come back, but he could not wait a single
instant for me!  Very well, then, I am now perfectly free.
Surangama, did he ask you to keep me back?

SURANGAMA.  No, he said nothing.

SUDARSHANA.  Why should he say anything?  Why should he care for
me? ...  I am then free, perfectly free.  But, Surangama, I
wanted to ask one thing of the King, but could not utter it in
his presence.  Tell me if he has punished the prisoners with
death.

SURANGAMA.  Death?  My King never punishes with death.

SUDARSHANA.  What has he done to them, then?

SURANGAMA.  He has set them at liberty.  Kanchi has acknowledged
his defeat and gone back to his kingdom.

SUDARSHANA.  Ah, what a relief!

SURANGAMA.  My Queen, I have one prayer to make to you.

SUDARSHANA.  You will not have to utter your prayer in words,
Surangama.  Whatever jewellery and ornaments the King gave me, I
leave to you--I am not worthy to wear them now.

SURANGAMA.  No, I do not want them, my Queen.  My master has
never given me any ornaments to wear--my unadorned plainness is
good enough for me.  He has not given me anything of which I can
boast before people.

SUDARSHANA.  What do you want of me then?

SURANGAMA.  I too shall go with you, my Queen.

SUDARSHANA.  Consider what you are saying; you are wanting to
leave your master.  What a prayer for you to make!

SURANGAMA.  I shall not go far from him--when you are going out
unguarded he will be with you, close by your side.

SUDARSHANA.  You are talking nonsense, my child.  I wanted to
take Rohini with me, but she would not come.  What gives you
courage enough to wish to come with me?

SURANGAMA.  I have got neither courage nor strength.  But I shall
go--courage will come of itself, and strength too will come.

SUDARSHANA.  No, I cannot take you with me; your presence will
constantly remind me of my shame; I shall not be able to endure
that.

SURANGAMA.  O my Queen, I have made all your good and all your
evil my own as well; will you treat me as a stranger still?  I
must go with you.




IX


[The KING OF KANYA KUBJA, father of SUDARSHANA, and his MINISTER]

KING OF KANYA KUBJA.  I heard everything before her arrival.

MINISTER.  The princess is waiting alone outside the city gates
on the bank of the river.  Shall I send people to welcome her
home?

KING OF KANYA KUBJA.  What!  She who has faithlessly left her
husband--do you propose trumpeting her infamy and shame to every
one by getting up a show for her?

MINISTER.  Shall I then make arrangements for her residence at
the palace?

KING OF KANYA KUBJA.  You will do nothing of the sort.  She has
left her place as the Empress of her own accord--here she will
have to work as a maid-servant if she wants to stay in my house.

MINISTER.  It will be hard and bitter to her, Your Highness.

KING OF KANYA KUBJA.  If I seek to save her from her sufferings,
then I am not worthy to be her father.

MINISTER.  I shall arrange everything as you wish, Your Highness.

KING OF KANYA KUBJA.  Let it be kept a secret that she is my
daughter; otherwise we shall all be in an awful trouble.

MINISTER.  Why do you fear such disaster, Your Highness?

KING OF KANYA KUBJA.  When woman swerves from the right path,
then she appears fraught with the direst calamity.  You do not
know with what deadly fear this daughter of mine has inspired
me--she is coming to my home laden with peril and danger.




X


[Inner Apartments of the Palace.  SUDARSHANA and SURANGAMA]

SUDARSHANA.  Go away from me, Surangama!  A deadly anger rages
within me--I cannot bear anybody--it makes me wild to see you so
patient and submissive.

SURANGAMA.  Whom are you angry with?

SUDARSHANA.  I do not know; but I wish to see everything
destroyed and convulsed in ruin and disaster!  I left my place on
the throne as the Empress in a moment's time.  Did I lose my all
to sweep the dust, to sweat and slave in this dismal hole?  Why
do the torches of mourning not flare up for me all over the
world?  Why does not the earth quake and tremble?  Is my fall but
the unobserved dropping of the puny bean-flower?  Is it not more
like the fall of a glowing star, whose fiery blazon bursts the
heavens asunder?

SURANGAMA.  A mighty forest only smokes and smoulders before it
bursts into a conflagration: the time has not come yet.

SUDARSHANA.  I have thrown my queen's honour and glory to the
dust and winds--but is there no human being who will come out to
meet my desolate soul here?  Alone--oh, I am fearfully, terribly
alone!

SURANGAMA.  You are not alone.

SUDARSHANA.  Surangama, I shall not keep anything from you.  When
he set the palace on fire, I could not be angry with him.  A
great inward joy set my heart a-flutter all the while.  What a
stupendous crime!  What glorious prowess!  It was this courage
that made me strong and fired my own spirits.  It was this
terrible joy that enabled me to leave everything behind me in a
moment's time.  But is it all my imagination only?  Why is there
no sign of his coming anywhere?

SURANGAMA.  He of whom you are thinking did not set fire to the
palace--it is the King of Kanchi who did it.

SUDARSHANA.  Coward!  But is it possible?  So handsome, so
bewitching, and yet no manhood in him!  Have I deceived myself
for the sake of such a worthless creature?  O shame!  Fie on me!
...  But, Surangama, don't you think that your King should yet
have come to take me back?  [SURANGAMA remains silent.]  You think
I am anxious to go back?  Never!  Even if the King really came I
should not have returned.  Not even once did he forbid me to come
away, and I found all the doors wide open to let me out!  And the
stony and dusty road over which I walked--it was nothing to it
that a queen was treading on it.  It is hard and has no feelings,
like your King; the meanest beggar is the same to it as the
highest Empress.  You are silent!  Well, I tell you, your King's
behaviour is--mean, brutal, shameful!

SURANGAMA.  Every one knows that my King is hard and pitiless--no
one has ever been able to move him.

SUDARSHANA.  Why do you, then, call him day and night?

SURANGAMA.  May he ever remain hard and relentless like rock--may
my tears and prayers never move him!  Let my sorrows be ever mine
only--and may his glory and victory be for ever!

SUDARSHANA.  Surangama, look!  A cloud of dust seems to rise over
the eastern horizon across the fields.

SURANGAMA.  Yes, I see it.

SUDARSHANA.  Is that not like the banner of a chariot?

SURANGAMA.  Indeed, a banner it is.

SUDARSHANA.  Then he is coming.  He has come at last!

SURANGAMA.  Who is coming?

SUDARSHANA.  Our King--who else?  How could he live without me?
It is a wonder how he could hold out even for these days.

SURANGAMA.  No, no, this cannot be the King.

SUDARSHANA.  "No," indeed!  As if you know everything!  Your King
is hard, stony, pitiless, isn't he?  Let us see how hard he can
be.  I knew from the beginning that he would come--that he would
have to rush after me.  But remember, Surangama, I never for a
single moment asked him to come.  You will see how I make your
King confess his defeat to me!  Just go out, Surangama, and let
me know everything.  [SURANGAMA goes out.]  But shall I go if he
comes and asks me to return with him?  Certainly not!  I will not
go!  Never!

[Enter SURANGAMA]

SURANGAMA.  It is not the King, my Queen.

SUDARSHANA.  Not the King?  Are you quite sure?  What!  he has
not come yet?

SURANGAMA.  No, my King never raises so much dust when he comes.
Nobody can know when he comes at all.

SUDARSHANA.  Then this is--

SURANGAMA.  The same: he is coming with the King of Kanchi.

SUDARSHANA.  Do you know his name?

SURANGAMA.  His name is Suvarna.

SUDARSHANA.  It is he, then.  I thought, "I am lying here like
waste refuse and offal, which no one cares even to touch."  But
my hero is coming now to release me.  Did you know Suvarna?

SURANGAMA.  When I was at my father's home, in the gambling den

SUDARSHANA.  No, no, I won't hear anything of him from you.  He
is my own hero, my only salvation.  I shall know him without your
telling stories about him.  But just see, a nice man your King
is!  He did not care to come to rescue me from even this
degradation.  You cannot blame me after this.  I could not have
waited for him all my life here, toiling ignominiously like a
bondslave.  I shall never have <i>your</i> meekness and
submissiveness.




XI


[Encampment]

KANCHI.  [To KANYA KUBJA'S MESSENGER.]  Tell your King that he
need not receive us exactly as his guests.  We are on our way
back to our kingdoms, but we are waiting to rescue Queen
Sudarshana from the servitude and degradation to which she is
condemned here.

MESSENGER.  Your Highness, you will remember that the princess is
in her father's house.

KANCHI.  A daughter may stay in her father's home only so long as
she remains unmarried.

MESSENGER.  But her connections with her father's family remain
intact still.

KANCHI.  She has abjured all such relations now.

MESSENGER.  Such relationship can never be abjured, Your
Highness, on this side of death: it may remain in abeyance at
times, but can never be wholly broken up.

KANCHI.  If the King chooses not to give up his daughter to me on
peaceful terms, our <i>Kshatriya</i> code of righteousness will
oblige me to employ force.  You may take this as my last word.

MESSENGER.  Your Highness, do not forget that our King too is
bound by the same code.  It is idle to expect that he will
deliver up his daughter by merely hearing your threats.

KANCHI.  Tell your King that I have come prepared for such an
answer.  [MESSENGER goes out.]

SUVARNA.  King of Kanchi, it seems to me that we are daring too
much.

KANCHI.  What pleasure would there be in this adventure if it
were otherwise?

SUVARNA.  It does not cost much courage to challenge Kanya
Kubja--but ...

KANCHI.  If you once begin to be afraid of "but," you will hardly
find a place in this world safe enough for you.

[Enter a SOLDIER]

SOLDIER.  Your Highness!  I have just received the news that the
Kings of Koshala, Avanti, and Kalinga are coming this way with
their armies.  [Exit.]

KANCHI.  Just what I was afraid of!  The report of Sudarshana's
flight has spread abroad--now we are going to be in for a general
scramble which is sure to end in smoke.

SUVARNA.  It is useless now, Your Highness.  These are not good
tidings.  I am perfectly certain that it is our Emperor himself
who has secretly spread the report everywhere.

KANCHI.  Why, what good will it bring him?

SUVARNA.  The greedy ones will tear one another to pieces in the
general rivalry and scramble--and he will take advantage of the
situation to go back with the booty.

KANCHI.  Now it becomes clear why your King never shows himself.
His trick is to multiply himself on every side--fear makes him
visible everywhere.  But I will still maintain that your King is
but an empty fraud from top to bottom.

SUVARNA.  But, please Your Highness, will you have the kindness
to let me off?

KANCHI.  I cannot let you go--I have some use for you in this
affair.

[Enter a SOLDIER]

SOLDIER.  Your Highness, Virat, Panchal, and Vidarbha too have
come.  They have encamped on the other side of the river.[Exit.]

KANCHI.  In the beginning we must all fight together.  Let the
battle with Kanya Kubja first be over, then we shall find some
way out of the difficulty.

SUVARNA.  Please do not drag me into your plans--I shall be happy
if you leave me alone--I am a poor, mean creature--nothing can--

KANCHI.  Look here, king of hypocrites, ways and means are never
of a very exalted order--roads and stairs and so forth are always
to be trodden under our feet.  The advantage of utilising men
like you in our plans is that we have to make use of no mask or
illusion.  But if I were to consult my prime minister, it would
be absurd for me to call theft by any name less dignified than
public benefit.  I will go now, and move the princes about like
pawns on the chessboard; the game cannot evidently go on if all
the chessmen propose moving like kings!




XII


[Interior of the Palace]

SUDARSHANA.  Is the fight still going on?

SURANGAMA.  As fiercely as ever.

SUDARSHANA.  Before going out to the battle my father came to me
and said, "You have come away from one King, but you have drawn
seven Kings after you: I have a mind to cut you up into seven
pieces and distribute them among the princes.  It would have been
well if he did so.  Surangama!

SURANGAMA.  Yes?

SUDARSHANA.  If your King had the power to save me, could my
present state have left him unmoved?

SURANGAMA.  My Queen, why do you ask me?  Have I the power to
answer for my King?  I know my understanding is dark; that is why
I never dare to judge him.

SUDARSHANA.  Who have joined in this fight?

SURANGAMA.  All the seven princes.

SUDARSHANA.  No one else?

SURANGAMA.  Suvarna attempted to escape--in secret before the
fight began--but Kanchi has kept him a prisoner in his camps.

SUDARSHANA.  Oh, I should have been dead long ago!  But, O King,
my King, if you had come and helped my father, your fame would
have been none the less!  It would have become brighter and
higher.  Are you quite sure, Surangama, that he has not come?

SURANGAMA.  I know nothing for certain.

SUDARSHANA.  But since I came here I have felt suddenly many a
time as if somebody were playing on a <i>vina</i> below my window.

SURANGAMA.  There is nothing impossible in the idea that somebody
indulges his taste for music there.

SUDARSHANA.  There is a deep thicket below my window--I try to
find out who it is every time I hear the music, but I can see
nothing distinctly.

SURANGAMA.  Perhaps some wayfarer rests in the shade and plays on
the instrument.

SUDARSHANA.  It may be so, but my old window in the palace comes
back to my memory.  I used to come after dressing in the evening
and stand at my window, and out of the blank darkness of our
lampless meeting-place used to stream forth strains and songs and
melodies, dancing and vibrating in endless succession and
overflowing profusion, like the passionate exuberance of a
ceaseless fountain!

SURANGAMA.  O deep and sweet darkness!  the profound and mystic
darkness whose servant I was!

SUDARSHANA.  Why did you come away with me from that room?

SURANGAMA.  Because I knew he would follow us and take us back.

SUDARSHANA.  But no, he will not come--he has left us for good.
Why should he not?

SURANGAMA.  If he can leave us like that, then we have no need of
him.  Then he does not exist for us: then that dark chamber is
totally empty and void--no vina ever breathed its music there--
none called you or me in that chamber; then everything has been a
delusion and an idle dream.

[Enter the DOORKEEPER]

SUDARSHANA.  Who are you?

DOORKEEPER.  I am the porter of this palace.

SUDARSHANA.  Tell me quickly what you have got to say.

DOORKEEPER.  Our King has been taken prisoner.

SUDARSHANA.  Prisoner?  O Mother Earth!  [Faints.]




XIII


[KING OF KANCHI and SUVARNA]

SUVARNA.  You say, then, that there will be no more necessity of
any fight amongst yourselves?

KANCHI.  No, you need not be afraid.  I have made all the princes
agree that he whom the Queen accepts as her husband will have
her, and the others will have to abandon all further struggle.

SUVARNA.  But you must have done with me now, Your Highness--so I
beg to be let off now.  Unfit as I am for anything, the fear of
impending danger has unnerved me and stunned my intellect.  You
will therefore find it difficult to put me to any use.

KANCHI.  You will have to sit there as my umbrella-holder.

SUVARNA.  Your servant is ready for anything; but of what profit
will that be to you?

KANCHI.  My man, I see that your weak intellect cannot go with a
high ambition in you.  You have no notion yet with what favour
the Queen looked upon you.  After all, she cannot possibly throw
the bridal garland on an umbrella-bearer's neck in a company of
princes, and yet, I know, she will not be able to turn her mind
away from you.  So on all accounts this garland will fall under
the shade of my regal umbrella.

SUVARNA.  Your Highness, you are entertaining dangerous
imaginings about me.  I pray you, please do not implicate me in
the toils of such groundless notions.  I beg Your Highness most
humbly, pray set me at liberty.

KANCHI.  As soon as my object is attained, I shall not keep you
one moment from your liberty.  Once the end is attained, it is
futile to burden oneself with the means.




XIV


[SUDARSHANA and SURANGAMA at the Window]

SUDARSHANA.  Must I go to the assembly of the princes, then?  Is
there no other means of saving father's life?

SURANGAMA.  The King of Kanchi has said so.

SUDARSHANA .  Are these the words worthy of a King?  Did he say
so with his own lips?

SURANGAMA.  No, his messenger, Suvarna, brought this news.

SUDARSHANA.  Woe, woe is me!

SURANGAMA.  And he produced a few withered flowers and said,
"Tell your Queen that the drier and more withered these souvenirs
of the Spring Festival become, the fresher and more blooming do
they grow within in my heart."

SUDARSHANA.  Stop!  Tell me no more.  Do not torment me any more.

SURANGAMA.  Look!  There sit all the princes in the great
assembly.  He who has no ornament on his person, except a single
garland of flowers round his crown--he is the King of Kanchi.
And he who holds the umbrella over his head, standing behind
him--that is Suvarna.

SUDARSHANA.  Is that Suvarna?  Are you quite certain?

SURANGAMA.  Yes, I know him well.

SUDARSHANA.  Can it be that it is this man that I saw the other
day?  No, no,--I saw something mingled and transfused and blended
with light and darkness, with wind and perfume,--no, no, it
cannot be he; that is not he.

SURANGAMA.  But every one admits that he is exceedingly beautiful
to look at.

SUDARSHANA.  How could that beauty fascinate me?  Oh, what shall
I do to purge my eyes of their pollution?

SURANGAMA.  You will have to wash them in that bottomless
darkness.

SUDARSHANA.  But tell me, Surangama, why does one make such
mistakes?

SURANGAMA.  Mistakes are but the preludes to their own
destruction.

MESSENGER.  [entering] Princess, the Kings are waiting for you in
the hall.  [Exit.]

SUDARSHANA.  Surangama, bring me the veil.  [SURANGAMA goes out.]
O King, my only King!  You have left me alone, and you have been
but just in doing so.  But will you not know the inmost truth
within my soul?  [Taking out a dagger from within her bosom.]
This body of mine has received a stain--I shall make a sacrifice
of it to-day in the dust of the hall, before all these princes!
But shall I never be able to tell you that I know of no stain of
faithlessness within the hidden chambers of my heart?  That dark
chamber where you would come to meet me lies cold and empty
within my bosom to-day--but, O my Lord!  none has opened its
doors, none has entered it but you, O King!  Will you never come
again to open those doors?  Then, let death come, for it is dark
like yourself, and its features are beautiful as yours .  It is
you--it is yourself, O King!




XV


[The Gathering of the PRINCES]

VIDARBHA.  King of Kanchi, how is it that you have not got a
single piece of ornament on your person?

KANCHI.  Because I entertain no hopes at all, my friend.
Ornaments would but double the shame of my defeat.

KALINGA.  But your umbrella-bearer seems to have made up for
that,--he is loaded with gold and jewellery all over.

VIRAT.  The King of Kanchi wants to demonstrate the futility and
inferiority of outer beauty and grandeur.  Vanity of his prowess
has made him discard all outer embellishments from his limbs.

KOSLIALA.  I am quite up to his trickery; he is seeking to prove
his own dignity, maintaining a severe plainness among the
bejewelled princes.

PANCHALA.  I cannot commend his wisdom in this matter.  Every one
knows that a woman's eyes are like a moth in that they fling
themselves headlong on the glare and glitter of jewel and gold.

KALINGA.  But how long shall we have to wait more?

KANCHI.  Do not grow impatient, King of Kalinga--sweet are the
fruits of delay.

KALINGA.  If I were sure of the fruit I could have endured it.
It is because my hopes of tasting the fruit are extremely
precarious that my eagerness to have a sight of her breaks
through all bounds.

KANCHI.  But you are young still--abandoned hope comes back to
you again and again like a shameless woman at your age: we,
however, have long passed that stage.

KOSHALA.  Kanchi, did you feel as if something shook your seat
just now?  Is it an earthquake?

KANCHI.  Earthquake?  I do not know.

VIDARBHA.  Or perhaps some other prince is coming with his army.

KALINGA.  There is nothing against your theory except that we
should have first heard the news from some herald or messenger in
that case.

VIDARBHA.  I cannot regard this as a very auspicious omen.

KANCHI.  Everything looks inauspicious to the eye of fear.

VIDARBHA.  I fear none except Fate, before which courage or
heroism is as futile as it is absurd.

PANCHALA.  Vidarbha, do not darken to-day's happy proceedings
with your unwelcome prognostications.

KANCHI.  I never take the unseen into account till it has become
"seen."

VIDARBHA.  But then it might be too late to do anything.

PANCHALA.  Did we not all of us start at a specially auspicious
moment?

VIDARBHA.  Do you think you insure against every possible risk by
starting at auspicious moments?  It looks as if--

KANCHI.  You had better let the "as if" alone: though our own
creation, it often proves our ruin and destruction.

KALINGA.  Isn't that music somewhere outside?

PANCHALA.  Yes, it sounds like music, sure enough.

KANCHI.  Then at last it must be the Queen Sudarshana who is
approaching near.  [Aside to SUVARNA.] Suvarna, you must not hide and cower behind me like that.  Mind, the umbrella in your
hand is shaking!

[Enter GRANDFATHER, dressed as a warrior]

KALINGA.  Who is that?--Who are you?

PANCHALA.  Who is this that dares to enter this hall without
being invited?

VIRAT.  Amazing impudence!  Kalinga, just prevent the fellow from
advancing further.

KALINGA.  You are all my superiors in age--you are fitter to do
that than myself.

VIDARBHA.  Let us hear what he has to say.

GRANDFATHER.  The KING has come.

VIDARBHA.  [starting] King?

PANCHALA.  Which King?

KALINGA.  Where does he come from?

GRANDFATHER.  My King!

VIRAT.  Your King?

KALINGA.  Who is he?

KOSHALA.  What do you mean?

GRANDFATHER.  You all know whom I mean.  He has come.

VIDARBHA.  He has come?

KOSHALA.  With what intention?

GRANDFATHER.  He has summoned you all to come to him.

KANCHI.  Summoned us, indeed?  In what terms has he been pleased
to summon us?

GRANDFATHER.  You can take his call in any way you like--there is
none to prevent you--he is prepared to make all kinds of welcome
to suit your various tastes.

VIRAT.  But who are you?

GRANDFATHER.  I am one of his generals.

KANCHI.  Generals?  It is a lie!  Do you think of frightening us?
Do you imagine that I cannot see through your disguise?  We all
know you well--and you pose as a "general" before us!

GRANDFATHER.  You have recognised me to perfection.  Who is so
unworthy as I to bear my King's commands?  And yet it is he who
has invested me with these robes of a general and sent me here:
he has chosen me before greater generals and mightier warriors.

KANCHI.  All right, we shall go to observe the proprieties and
amenities on a fitting occasion--but at present we are in the
midst of a pressing engagement.  He will have to wait till this
little function is over.

GRANDFATHER.  When he sends out his call he does not wait.

KOSHALA.  I shall obey his call; I am going at once.

VIDARBHA.  Kanchi, I cannot agree with you in your proposal to
wait till this function is over.  I am going.

KALINGA.  You are older than I am--I shall follow you.

PANCHALA.  Look behind you, Prince of Kanchi, your regal umbrella
is lying in the dust: you have not noticed when your
umbrella-holder has stolen away.

KANCHI.  All right, general.  I too am going--but not to do him
homage.  I go to fight him on the battle-ground.

GRANDFATHER.  You will meet my King in the field of battle: that
is no mean place for your reception.

VIRAT.  Look here, friends, perhaps we are all flying before an
imagined terror--it looks as if the King of Kanchi will have the
best of it.

PANCHALA.  Possibly, when the fruit is so near the hand, it is
cowardly and foolish to go away without plucking it.

KALINGA.  It is better to join the King of Kanchi.  He cannot be
without a definite plan and purpose when he is doing and daring
so much.




XVI


[SUDARSHANA and SURANGAMA]

SUDARSHANA.  The fight is over now.  When will the King come?

SURANGAMA.  I do not know myself: I am also looking forward to
his coming.

SUDARSHANA.  I feel such a throb of joy, Surangama, that my
breast is positively aching.  But I am dying with shame too; how
shall I show my face to him?

SURANGAMA.  Go to him in utmost humility and resignation, and all
shame will vanish in a moment.

SUDARSHANA.  I cannot help confessing that I have met with my
uttermost defeat for all the rest of my life.  But pride made me
claim the largest share in his love so long.  Every one used to
say I had such wonderful beauty, such graces and virtues; every
one used to say that the King showed unlimited kindness towards
me--this is what makes it difficult for me to bend my heart in
humility before him.

SURANGAMA.  This difficulty, my Queen, will pass off.

SUDARSHANA.  Oh, yes, it will pass--the day has arrived for me to
humble myself before the whole world.  But why does not the King
come to take me back?  What more is he waiting for yet?

SURANGAMA.  Have I not told you my King is cruel and hard--very
hard indeed?

SUDARSHANA.  Go out, Surangama, and bring me news of him.

SURANGAMA.  I do not know where I should go to get any news of
him.  I have asked Grandfather to come; perhaps when he comes we
shall hear something from him.

SUDARSHANA.  Alack, my evil fate!  I have been reduced to asking
others to hear about my own King!

[Transciber's note: Alack should probably be replaced with Alas.]

[Enter GRANDFATHER]

SUDARSHANA.  I have heard that you are my King's friend, so
accept my obeisance and give me your blessings.

GRANDFATHER.  What are you doing, Queen?  I never accept
anybody's obeisance.  My relation with every one is only that of
comradeship.

SUDARSHANA.  Smile on me, then--give me good news.  Tell me when
the King is coming to take me back.

GRANDFATHER.  You ask me a hard question, indeed!  I hardly
understand yet the ways of my friend.  The battle is over, but no
one can tell where he is gone.

SUDARSHANA.  Is he gone away, then?

GRANDFATHER.  I cannot find any trace of him here.

SUDARSHANA.  Has he gone?  And do you call such a person your
friend?

GRANDFATHER.  That is why he gets people's abuse as well as
suspicion.  But my King simply does not mind it in the least.

SUDARSHANA.  Has he gone away?  Oh, oh, how hard, how cruel, how
cruel!  He is made of stone, he is hard as adamant!  I tried to
move him with my own bosom--my breast is torn and bleeding--but
him I could not move an inch!  Grandfather, tell me, how can you
manage with such a friend?

GRANDFATHER.  I have known him now--I have known him through my
griefs and joys--he can make me weep no more now.

SUDARSHANA.  Will he not let me know him also?

GRANDFATHER.  Why, he will, of course.  Nothing else will satisfy
him.

SUDARSHANA.  Very well, I shall see how hard he can be!  I shall
stay here near the window without saying a word; I shall not move
an inch; let me see if he will not come!

GRANDFATHER.  You are young still--you can afford to wait for
him; but to me, an old man, a moment's loss is a week.  I must
set out to seek him whether I succeed or not.[Exit.]

SUDARSHANA.  I do not want him--I will not seek him!  Surangama,
I have no need of your King!  Why did he fight with the princes?
Was it for me at all?  Did he want to show off his prowess and
strength?  Go away from here--I cannot bear your sight.  He has
humbled me to the dust, and is not satisfied still!




XVII


[A Band of CITIZENS]

FIRST CITIZEN.  When so many Kings met together, we thought we
were going to have some big fun; but somehow everything took such
a turn that nobody knows what happened at all!

SECOND CITIZEN.  Did you not see, they could not come to an
agreement among themselves?--every one distrusted every one else.

THIRD CITIZEN.  None kept to their original plans; one wanted to
advance, another thought it better policy to recede; some went to
the right, others made a rush to the left: how can you call that
a fight?

FIRST CITIZEN.  They had no eye to real fighting--each had his
eye on the others.

SECOND CITIZEN.  Each was thinking, "Why should I die to enable
others to reap the harvest?"

THIRD CITIZEN.  But you must all admit that Kanchi fought like a
real hero.

FIRST CITIZEN.  He for a long time after his defeat seemed loth
to acknowledge himself beaten.

SECOND CITIZEN.  He was at last fixed in the chest by a deadly
missile.

THIRD CITIZEN.  But before that he did not seem to realise that
he had been losing ground at every step.

FIRST CITIZEN.  As for the other Kings--well, nobody knows where
they fled, leaving poor Kanchi alone in the field.

SECOND CITIZEN.  But I have heard that he is not dead yet.

THIRD CITIZEN.  No, the physicians have saved him--but he will
carry the mark of his defeat on his breast till his dying day.

FIRST CITIZEN.  None of the other Kings who fled has escaped;
they have all been taken prisoners.  But what sort of justice is
this that was meted out to them?

SECOND CITIZEN.  I heard that every one was punished except
Kanchi, whom the judge placed on his right on the throne of
justice, putting a crown on his head.

THIRD CITIZEN.  This beats all mystery hollow.

SECOND CITIZEN.  This sort of justice, to speak frankly, strikes
us as fantastic and capricious.

FIRST CITIZEN.  Just so.  The greatest offender is certainly the
King of Kanchi; as for the others, greed of gain now pressed them
to advance, now they drew back in fear.

THIRD CITIZEN.  What kind of justice is this, I ask?  It is as if
the tiger got scot-free, while his tail got cut off.

SECOND CITIZEN.  If I were the judge, do you think Kanchi would
be whole and sound at this hour?  There would be nothing left of
him altogether.

THIRD CITIZEN.  They are great, high justices, my friends; their
brains are of a different stamp from ours.

FIRST CITIZEN.  Have they got any brains at all, I wonder?  They
simply indulge their sweet whims as there are none to say
anything to them from above.

SECOND CITIZEN.  Whatever you may say, if we had the governing
power in our hands we should certainly have carried on the
government much better than this.

THIRD CITIZEN.  Can there be any real doubts about that?  That of
course goes without saying.




XVIII


[The Street.  GRANDFATHER and KANCHI]

GRANDFATHER.  What, Prince of Kanchi, you here!

KANCHI.  Your King has sent me on the road.

GRANDFATHER.  That is a settled habit with him.

KANCHI.  And now, no one can get a glimpse of him.

GRANDFATHER.  That too is one of his amusements.

KANCHI.  But how long more will he elude me like this?  When
nothing could make me acknowledge him as my King, he came all of
a sudden like a terrific tempest--God knows from where--and
scattered my men and horses and banners in one wild tumult: but
now, when I am seeking the ends of the earth to pay him my humble
homage, he is nowhere to be seen.

GRANDFATHER.  But however big an Emperor he may be, he has to
submit to him that yields.  But why have you come out at night,
Prince?

KANCHI.  I still cannot get rid of the feeling of a secret dread
of being laughed at by people when they see me meekly doing my
homage to your King, acknowledging my defeat.

GRANDFATHER.  Such indeed is the people.  What would move others
to tears only serves to move their empty laughter.

KANCHI.  But you too are on the road, Grandfather.

GRANDFATHER.  This is my jolly pilgrimage to the land of losing
everything.

SINGS.

/*
  I am waiting with my all in the hope of losing everything.
  I am watching at the roadside for him who turns one out into
    the open road,
  Who hides himself and sees, who loves you unknown to you,
  I have given my heart in secret love to him,
  I am waiting with my all in the hope of losing everything.
*/




XIX


[A Road.  SUDARSHANA and SURANGAMA]

SUDARSHANA.  What a relief, Surangama, what freedom!  It is my
defeat that has brought me freedom.  Oh, what an iron pride was
mine!  Nothing could move it or soften it.  My darkened mind
could not in any way be brought to see the plain truth that it
was not the King who was to come, it was I who ought to have gone
to him.  All through yesternight I lay alone on the dusty floor
before that window--lay there through the desolate hours and
wept!  All night the southern winds blew and shrieked and moaned
like the pain that was biting at my heart; and all through it I
heard the plaintive "Speak, wife!"  of the nightbird echoing in
the tumult outside!  ...  It was the helpless wail of the dark
night, Surangama!

SURANGAMA.  Last night's heavy and melancholy air seemed to hang
on for an eternity--oh, what a dismal and gboomy night!

SUDARSHANA.  But would you believe it--I seemed to hear the soft
strains of the <i>vina</i> floating through all that wild din and
tumult!  Could he play such sweet and tender tunes, he who is so
cruel and terrible?  The world knows only my indignity and
ignominy--but none but my own heart could hear those strains that
called me through the lone and wailing night.  Did you too,
Surangama, hear the <i>vina</i>?  Or was that but a dream of mine?

SURANGAMA.  But it is just to hear that same <i>vina</i>'s music
that I am always by your side.  It is for this call of music,
which I knew would one day come to dissolve all the barriers of
love, that I have all along been listening with an eager ear.

SUDARSHANA.  He did at last send me on the open road--I could not
withstand his will.  When I shall find him, the first words that
I shall tell him will be, "I have come of my own will--I have not
awaited your coming."  I shall say, "For your sake have I trodden
the hard and weary roads, and bitter and ceaseless has been my
weeping all the way."  I shall at least have this pride in me
when I meet him.

SURANGAMA.  But even that pride will not last.  He came before
you did--who else could have sent you on the road?

SUDARSHANA.  Perhaps he did.  As long as a sense of offended
pride remained with me, I could not help thinking that he had
left me for good; but when I flung my dignity and pride to the
winds and came out on the common streets, then it seemed to me
that he too had come out: I have been finding him since the
moment I was on the road.  I have no misgivings now.  All this
suffering that I have gone through for his sake, the very
bitternesss of all this is giving me his company.  Ah! yes, he
has come--he has held me by the hand, just as he used to do in
that chamber of darkness, when, at his touch, all my body would
start with a sudden thrill: it is the same, the same touch again!
Who says that he is not here?--Surangama, can you not see that he
has come, in silence and secret? ...  Who is that there?  Look,
Surangama, there is a third traveller of this dark road at this
hour of the night.

SURANGAMA.  I see, it is the King of Kanchi, my Queen.

SUDARSHANA.  King of Kanchi!

SURANGAMA.  Don't be afraid, my Queen!

SUDARSHANA.  Afraid!  Why should I be afraid?  The days of fear
are gone for ever for me.

KANCHI.  [entering] Queen-mother, I see you two on this road!  I
am a traveller of the same path as yourself.  Have no fear of me,
O Queen!

SUDARSHANA.  It is well, King of Kanchi, that we should be going
together, side by side--this is but right.  I came on your way
when I first left my home, and now I meet you again on my way
back.  Who could have dreamed that this meeting of ours would
augur so well?

KANCHI.  But, Queen-mother, it is not meet that you should walk
over this road on foot.  Will you permit me to get a chariot for
you?

SUDARSHANA.  Oh, do not say so: I shall never be happy if I could
not on my way back home tread on the dust of the road that led me
away from my King.  I would be deceiving myself if I were now to
go in a chariot.

SURANGAMA.  King, you too are walking in the dust to-day: this
road has never known anybody driving his horse or chariot over
it.

SUDARSHANA.  When I was the Queen, I stepped over silver and
gold--I shall have now to atone for the evil fortune of my birth
by walking over dust and bare earth.  I could not have dreamed
that thus I would meet my King of common earth and dust at every
step of mine to-day.

SURANGAMA.  Look, my Queen, there on the eastern horizon comes
the dawn.  We have not long to walk: I see the spires of the
golden turrets of the King's palace.

[Enter GRANDFATHER]

GRANDFATHER.  My child, it is dawn--at last!

SUDARSHANA.  Your benedictions have given me Godspeed, and here I
am, at last.

GRANDFATHER.  But do you see how ill-mannered our King is?  He
has sent no chariot, no music band, nothing splendid or grand.

SUDARSHANA.  Nothing grand, did you say?  Look, the sky is rosy
and crimson from end to end, the air is full of the welcome of
the scent of flowers.

GRANDFATHER.  Yes, but however cruel our King may be, we cannot
seek to emulate him: I cannot help feeling pain at seeing you in
this state, my child.  How can we bear to see you going to the
King's palace attired in this poor and wretched attire?  Wait a
little--I am running to fetch you your Queen's garments.

SUDARSHANA.  Oh no, no, no!  He has taken away those regal robes
from me for ever--he has attired me in a servant's dress before
the eyes of the whole world: what a relief this has been to me!
I am his servant now, no longer his Queen.  To-day I stand at the
feet of all those who can claim any relationship with him.

GRANDFATHER.  But your enemies will laugh at you now: how can you
bear their derision?

SUDARSHANA.  Let their laughter and derision be immortal--let
them throw dust at me in the streets: this dust will to-day be
the powder with which I shall deck myself before meeting my lord.

GRANDFATHER.  After this, we shall say nothing.  Now let us play
the last game of our Spring Festival--instead of the pollen of
flowers let the south breeze blow and scatter dust of lowliness
in every direction!  We shall go to the lord clad in the common
grey of the dust.  And we shall find him too covered with dust
all over.  For do you think the people spare him?  Even he cannot
escape from their soiled and dusty hands, and he does not even
care to brush the dirt off his garments.

KANCHI.  Grandfather, do not forget me in this game of yours!  I
also will have to get this royal garment of mine soiled till it
is beyond all recognition.

GRANDFATHER.  That will not take long, my brother.  Now that you
have come down so far--you will change your colour in no time.
Just look at our Queen--she got into a temper with herself and
thought that she could spoil her matchless beauty by flinging
away all her ornaments: but this insult to her beauty has made it
shine forth in tenfold radiance, and now it is in its unadorned
perfection.  We hear that our King is all innocent of beauty--
that is why he loves all his manifold beauty of form which shines
as the very ornament of his breast.  And that beauty has to-day
taken off its veil and cloak of pride and vanity!  What could I
not give to be allowed to hear the wonderful music and song that
has filled my King's palace to-day!

SURANGAMA.  Lo, there rises the sun!




XX


[The Dark Chamber]

SUDARSHANA.  Lord, do not give me back the honour which you once
did turn away from me!  I am the servant of your feet--I only
seek the privilege of serving you.

KING.  Will you be able to bear me now?

SUDARSHANA.  Oh yes, yes, I shall.  Your sigh repelled me because
I had sought to find you in the pleasure garden, in my Queen's
chambers: there even your meanest servant looks handsomer than
you.  That fever of longing has left my eyes for ever.  You are
not beautiful, my lord--you stand beyond all comparisons!

KING.  That which can be comparable with me lies within yourself.

SUDARSHANA.  If this be so, then that too is beyond comparison.
Your love lives in me--you are mirrored in that love, and you see
your face reflected in me: nothing of this mine, it is all yours,
O lord!

KING.  I open the doors of this dark room to-day--the game is
finished here!  Come, come with me now, come outside--<i>into the
light!</i>

SUDARSHANA.  Before I go, let me bow at the feet of my lord of
darkness, my cruel, my terrible, my peerless one!




THE END