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The King of the Dark Chamber, a play by Rabindranath Tagore |
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SCENE II |
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_ SCENE II 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. /* 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. /* 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. /* |
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