The Little Clay Cart Part 17

_Vardhamanaka._ I will bring the water, Maitreya, and you may wash Charudatta's feet.

_Maitreya._ [_Angrily._] Look, man. He acts like the son of a slave that he is, for he is bringing water. But he makes me wash your feet, and I am a Brahman.

_Charudatta._ Good Maitreya, do you bring the water, and Vardhamanaka shall wash my feet.

_Vardhamanaka._ Yes, Maitreya. Do you bring the water. [_Maitreya does so. Vardhamanaka washes Charudatta's feet, then moves away._]

_Charudatta._ Let water be brought for the Brahman's feet.

_Maitreya._ What good does water do my feet? I shall have to roll in the dirt again, like a beaten a.s.s.

_Vardhamanaka._ Maitreya, you are a Brahman.

_Maitreya._ Yes, like a slow-worm among all the other snakes, so am I a Brahman among all the other Brahmans.

_Vardhamanaka._ Maitreya, I will wash your feet after all. [_He does so._] Maitreya, this golden casket I was to keep by day, you by night. Take it. [_He gives it to Maitreya, then exit._

_Maitreya._ [_Receiving the casket._] The thing is here still. Isn't there a single thief in Ujjayini to steal the wretch that robs me of my sleep? Listen. I am going to take it into the inner court.

[46.1. S.

_Charud._

Such lax attention we can ill afford.

If we are trusted by a courtezan, Then, Brahman, prove yourself an honest man, And guard it safely, till it be restored. 7

[_He nods, repeating the stanza_ "The melody of song, the stricken strings:" _page_ 44.]

_Maitreya._ Are you going to sleep?

_Charudatta._ Yes, so it seems.

For conquering sleep, descending on mine eyes, First smites the brow with unresisted blow; Unseen, elusive, like old age, she tries To gather strength by weakening her foe. 8

_Maitreya._ Then let's go to sleep. [_He does so._]

[_Enter Sharvilaka._[45]]

_Sharv._

I made an entrance for my body's round By force of art and arms, a path to deeds!

I skinned my sides by crawling on the ground, Like a snake that sloughs the skin no longer sound: And now I go where my profession leads. 9

[_He gazes at the sky. Joyfully._] See! The blessed moon is setting.

For well I know,

My trade would fain from watchmen's eyes be shrouded; Valiant, I force the dwelling of another.

But see, the stars in deepest dark are clouded, And the night s.h.i.+elds me like a careful mother. 10

I made a breach in the orchard wall and entered. And now I must force my way into the inner court as well.

Yes, let men call it vulgar, if they will, The trade that thrives while sleeps the sleepyhead; Yes, knavery, not bravery, call it still, To overreach confiding folk a-bed.

P. 86.9]

Far better blame and hissing, fairly won.

Than the pay of genuflecting underlings; This antique path was trod by Drona's son, Who slew the sleeping, unsuspecting kings. 11

But where shall I make the breach?

Where is the spot which falling drops decayed?

For each betraying sound is deadened there.

No yawning breach should in the walls be made, So treatises on robbery declare.

Where does the palace crumble? Where the place That niter-eaten bricks false soundness wear?

Where shall I 'scape the sight of woman's face?

Fulfilment of my wishes waits me there. 12

[_He feels the wall._] Here is a spot weakened by constant sun and sprinkling and eaten by saltpeter rot. And here is a pile of dirt thrown up by a mouse. Now heaven be praised! My venture prospers.

This is the first sign of success for Skanda's[46] sons. Now first of all, how shall I make the breach? The blessed Bearer of the Golden Lance[47] has prescribed four varieties of breach, thus: if the bricks are baked, pull them out; if they are unbaked, cut them; if they are made of earth, wet them; if they are made of wood, split them. Here we have baked bricks; ergo, pull out the bricks.

Now what shall be the shape I give the breach?

A "lotus," "cistern," "crescent moon," or "sun"?

"Oblong," or "cross," or "bulging pot"? for each The treatises permit. Which one? which one?

And where shall I display my sovereign skill, That in the morning men may wonder still? 13

In this wall of baked bricks, the "bulging pot" would be effective. I will make that.

[47.16. S.

At other walls that I have pierced by night, And at my less successful ventures too, The crowd of neighbors gazed by morning light, a.s.signing praise or blame, as was my due. 14

Praise to the boon-conferring G.o.d, to Skanda of immortal youth!

Praise to him, the Bearer of the Golden Lance, the Brahman's G.o.d, the pious! Praise to him, the Child of the Sun! Praise to him, the teacher of magic, whose first pupil I am! For he found pleasure in me and gave me magic ointment,

With which so I anointed be, No watchman's eye my form shall see; And edged sword that falls on me From cruel wounds shall leave me free. 15

[_He anoints himself._] Alas, I have forgotten my measuring line.

[_Reflecting._] Aha! This sacred cord[48] shall be my measuring line.

Yes, the sacred cord is a great blessing to a Brahman, especially to one like me. For, you see,

With this he measures, ere he pierce a wall, And picks the lock, when jewels are at stake.

It serves as key to bolted door and hall, As tourniquet for bite of worm and snake. 16

The measuring is done. I begin my task. [_He does so, then takes a look._] My breach lacks but a single brick. Alas, I am bitten by a snake. [_He binds his finger with the sacred cord, and manifests the workings of poison._] I have applied the remedy, and now I am restored.

[_He continues his work, then gazes._] Ah, there burns a candle.

See!