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The King of the Dark Chamber, a play by Rabindranath Tagore |
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SCENE XIX |
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_ SCENE XIX 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 vina 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 vina? Or was that but a dream of mine? SURANGAMA. But it is just to hear that same vina'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! _ |
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