The Little Clay Cart Part 4

_Director._ He says no. Well, I must invite some other Brahman.

[_Exit._

END OF THE PROLOGUE

ACT THE FIRST

THE GEMS ARE LEFT BEHIND

[_Enter, with a cloak in his hand, Maitreya._]

_Maitreya._

"You must invite some other Brahman. I am busy." And yet I really ought to be seeking invitations from a stranger. Oh, what a wretched state of affairs! When good Charudatta was still wealthy, I used to eat my fill of the most deliciously fragrant sweetmeats, prepared day and night with the greatest of care. I would sit at the door of the courtyard, where I was surrounded by hundreds of dishes, and there, like a painter with his paint-boxes, I would simply touch them with my fingers and thrust them aside. I would stand chewing my cud like a bull in the city market. And now he is so poor that I have to run here, there, and everywhere, and come home, like the pigeons, only to roost. Now here is this jasmine-scented cloak, which Charudatta's good friend Jurnavriddha has sent him. He bade me give it to Charudatta, as soon as he had finished his devotions. So now I will look for Charudatta. [_He walks about and looks around him._] Charudatta has finished his devotions, and here he comes with an offering for the divinities of the house.

[_Enter Charudatta as described, and Radanika._]

_Charudatta._ [_Looking up and sighing wearily._]

Upon my threshold, where the offering Was straightway seized by swans and flocking cranes, The gra.s.s grows now, and these poor seeds I fling Fall where the mouth of worms their sweetness stains. 9

[_He walks about very slowly and seats himself._]

_Maitreya_. Charudatta is here. I must go and speak to him.

[_Approaching._] My greetings to you. May happiness be yours.

P. 13.1]

_Charudatta._ Ah, it is my constant friend Maitreya. You are very welcome, my friend. Pray be seated.

_Maitreya._ Thank you. [_He seats himself._] Well, comrade, here is a jasmine-scented cloak which your good friend Jurnavriddha has sent. He bade me give it you as soon as you had finished your devotions.

[_He presents the cloak. Charudatta takes it and remains sunk in thought._] Well, what are you thinking about?

_Charudatta._ My good friend,

A candle s.h.i.+ning through the deepest dark Is happiness that follows sorrow's strife; But after bliss when man bears sorrow's mark, His body lives a very death-in-life. 10

_Maitreya._ Well, which would you rather, be dead or be poor?

_Charudatta._ Ah, my friend,

Far better death than sorrows sure and slow; Some pa.s.sing suffering from death may flow, But poverty brings never-ending woe. 11

_Maitreya._ My dear friend, be not thus cast down. Your wealth has been conveyed to them you love, and like the moon, after she has yielded her nectar to the G.o.ds, your waning fortunes win an added charm.

_Charudatta._ Comrade, I do not grieve for my ruined fortunes. But

This is my sorrow. They whom I Would greet as guests, now pa.s.s me by.

"This is a poor man's house," they cry.

As flitting bees, the season o'er, Desert the elephant, whose store Of ichor[30] spent, attracts no more. 12

_Maitreya._ Oh, confound the money! It is a trifle not worth thinking about. It is like a cattle-boy in the woods afraid of wasps; it doesn't stay anywhere where it is used for food.

[8.5. S.

_Charud._ Believe me, friend. My sorrow does not spring

From simple loss of gold; For fortune is a fickle, changing thing, Whose favors do not hold; But he whose sometime wealth has taken wing, Finds bosom-friends grow cold. 13

Then too:

A poor man is a man ashamed; from shame Springs want of dignity and worthy fame; Such want gives rise to insults hard to bear; Thence comes despondency; and thence, despair; Despair breeds folly; death is folly's fruit-- Ah! the lack of money is all evils root! 14

_Maitreya._ But just remember what a trifle money is, after all, and be more cheerful.

_Charudatta._ My friend, the poverty of a man is to him

A home of cares, a shame that haunts the mind, Another form of warfare with mankind; The abhorrence of his friends, a source of hate From strangers, and from each once-loving mate; But if his wife despise him, then 't were meet In some lone wood to seek a safe retreat.

The flame of sorrow, torturing his soul, Burns fiercely, yet contrives to leave him whole. 15

Comrade, I have made my offering to the divinities of the house.

Do you too go and offer sacrifice to the Divine Mothers at a place where four roads meet.

_Maitreya._ No!

_Charudatta._ Why not?

_Maitreya._ Because the G.o.ds are not gracious to you even when thus honored. So what is the use of wors.h.i.+ping?

P. 16.8]

_Charudatta._ Not so, my friend, not so! This is the constant duty of a householder.

The G.o.ds feel ever glad content In the gifts, and the self-chastis.e.m.e.nt, The meditations, and the prayers, Of those who banish worldly cares. 16

Why then do you hesitate? Go and offer sacrifice to the Mothers.

_Maitreya._ No, I'm not going. You must send somebody else. Anyway, everything seems to go wrong with me, poor Brahman that I am! It's like a reflection in a mirror; the right side becomes the left, and the left becomes the right. Besides, at this hour of the evening, people are abroad upon the king's highway--courtezans, courtiers, servants, and royal favorites. They will take me now for fair prey, just as the black-snake out frog-hunting snaps up the mouse in his path. But what will you do sitting here?

_Charudatta._ Good then, remain; and I will finish my devotions.