(Rough Draft)
SRI AUROBINDO
Translations
from Sanskrit and Other Languages
Kalidasa
A Play by Kalidasa in Five Acts
(Rough Draft)
Scene: The Palace in Vidisha
Agnimitra: King of Vidisha, son of Puspamitra, Commander-in-chief and afterwards supplanter of the Maurya Dynasty in Vidisha.
Vahataka: Prime minister of Vidisha
Gautama: The Brahmin Buffoon, companion of the King
Ganadasa
Haradutta
Dharinie: Queen of Vidisha
Iravatie: Second queen and hitherto favourite wife of Agnimitra
Malavica: A princess of the Vidurbhan house
Vacoolavalica: A handmaid of Queen Dharinie
Comudica: Her friend
Caushiquie: Widow of the Vidurbhan minister, become a religious mendicant
Jayasena: Keeper of the door in the royal seraglio
Nipounica: Handmaid and companion of Iravatie
The Palace Grounds. Outside the Hall of Music.
The One who is Almighty, he who showers
Upon his worshippers all wealth, all joy,
Yet wears himself a hide, nought richer; who
With his beloved is one body, and yet
The first of passionless ascetics stands;
Who in his eightfold form bears up the world,
Yet knows not egoism, he from you
Remove your darkness and reveal the light,
The paths of righteousness to reillume.
After the invocation the Manager speaks
Enter Assistant-Manager.
Here, friend.
Behold me!
By the audience I am bid
To stage this high Mayday carnival to stage
The drama of Malavica and the King
Plotted by Kalidasa. Therefore begin
The overture.
Why, sir, this is most strange!
Are there not classics old, are there not works
Of Bhasa and Saumilla, famous plays,
Great Kaviputra’s name and others many 
That thus the audience honours, all these scorned,
A living poet’s work?
Not well hast thou
Spoken in this, nor like a judging man.
For think, not all that’s old is therefore good,
Nor must a poem straightway be condemned
Because ’tis new. The critic watches, hears,
Weighs patiently, then judges, but the fool
Follows opinion’s beaten way and walks
By other’s seeing.
Well, sir, you are the judge.
(Haste then, for ever since with bended head
The learned audience will I have accepted,
I have no ease till ’tis performed, but my mind
Haste like yon maiden’s, Dharinie’s attendant
Light-footed to her royal mistress’ will.)1
My lady bids me seek out Ganadasa
(Her Master of the Stage, from him to learn
How in the Dance of Double Entendre progresses
Our Malavica, a recent scholar yet)2
Here in this Hall of Music.
Enter another handmaid with a ring in her palm. 
What, have you taken to religion then
Or why do you sail past me with an eye
Abstracted, not one glance for me?
Forgive me,
(Vacoolavalica! I was absorbed
In this delightful jewel – on this ring
Fresh from the jeweller’s hands for our great lady
O Heavens, how lovely!
Well might you have no eyes for aught else, look!
Your fingers are all blossoming with the jewel!
The rays of light are golden filaments
Just breaking out of bud.
Whither bound?
To our stage master. Our lady seeks to know
What sort of pupil Malavica proves,
How quick to learn.
Oh! is it true, the rumour
That Malavica by this study kept
Far from his eye, was by our lord the King
Seen lately? 
Seen – but in a picture, close
Beside my lady.
How did it chance?
I will tell you.
My lady in the painting-school was seated
Studying the marvellous colours that enhue
The Master’s great design – when suddenly
My lord comes on her.
Well, what followed?
Greeting.
Then sitting down by her he scanned the painting,
There saw of all the attendants Malavica
Nearest the Queen and asked of her.
His words?
“This face the like of which I not remember,
And yet she stands just by you – who is she?”
Beauty’s indeed a magnet to the affections
And seizes at first sight. My lady?
Made
No answer: he in some astonishment
Urged her with questions.
Then my lady’s sister
The princess Vasouluxmy all in wonder
Breaks out “Why, brother, this is Malavica!”
Oh, good! How like the child’s sweet innocence!
Why, what else? Since then still more
Is Malavica from the royal eye
Kept close secluded.
Well, I should not stop you
Upon your errand. I too will to my lady
Carry this ring.
Who comes out from the Hall
Of Music? Oh ’tis Ganadasa himself.
Each worker, doubtless, his own craft exalts
Practised by all his sires before him: yet not
A mere vainglory is the drama’s praise.
For drama is to the immortal Gods
A sacrifice of beauty visible.
The Almighty in his body most divine
Where Male and Female join, disparted it
Twixt sweet and terrible. Drama unites
In one fair view the whole conflicting world,
Pictures man’s every action, his complex
Emotions infinite makes harmony;
So that each temperament in its own taste
Howsoever various, gathers from the stage, 
Rapt with some pleasing echo of itself,
Peculiar pleasure. Thus one selfsame art
Meets in their nature’s wants most various minds.
Obeisance to the noble Ganadasa!
Live long, my child.
My lady sent me, sir,
To ask how Malavica makes progress. Sir,
Does she learn quickly yet?
Tell my lady,
No swifter brain, no apter delicate taste
Has ever studied with me. In one word,
Whate’er emotion to the dance translated
I show the child, that she improvising seems
To teach the teacher.
Iravatie already conquered! (aloud) Sir,
That pupil gains the very aim of study
Of whom her master says so much.
Vacoola,
Because such genius is most rare, I ask thee:
Whence did my lady bring this matchless wonder?
The brother of my lady in a womb
Less noble got, who for my lord commands
His watchful frontier fortress by the stream
Mundaquinie, Virasena to his great sister,
For mistresshood and office in the Arts
Deemed worthy, sent her.
So rare her form and face,
Her nature too so modest and so noble,
I cannot but conceive that of no mean
Material was composed this beauty. (aloud) Child,
I shall be famous by her! The Master’s art
Into a brilliant mind projected turns
To power original, as common rain
Dropping into the ocean-harboured shell
Empearls and grows a rareness.
Where is she, sir?
Tired with much study in the five parts of gesture
She rests yonder enjoying the cool breezes
Beside the window that o’erlooks the lake.
Sir, will you permit me
To tell her how much you are pleased with her?
Such praise will be a spur indeed.
Go, child.
Embrace your friend. I too will to my house
Taking the boon of this permitted leisure.
A room in the palace. The King seated with the minister Vahataka in attendance on him. Vahataka reading a letter. The King’s attendants stand apart at one side.
Agnimitra (seeing that the Minister has finished reading the letter)
Well, Vahataka, what answers the Vidurbhan?
His own destruction!
I would hear the letter.
Thus runs his present missive: – In these terms
Your Highness has sent to me; “Madhavasena,
Thy father’s brother’s son, bound to my court
For the fulfilment of contracted bonds,
Within thy dungeons lies: for by the way
The governor of thy frontiers leaped on him
And harried. Therefore if thou regardest me,
Him with his wife and sister straight unbind.”
To which I answer thus; “Your Highness knows
What conduct kings should use to princes born
Their equals. In this quarrel then I look
From your great name for just neutrality.
Touching his sister, she in the quick scuffle
Of capture disappeared, whom to seek out
I shall not want in my endeavours. But if
Your Highness must indeed release my cousin,
Then hear my only terms. First from your dungeons
The Premier of the Maurya princes loose
And brother of my queen; this done, at once
Are Madhavasena’s farther bonds excused.”
How! dares the weakling trade with me in favour? 
Knows he himself so little? Vahataka,
Command towards Vidurbha the division
That under Virasena new-mobilized
Stands prompt to arms. I will exterminate
This man who rises up my enemy.
Vidurbha was my natural foeman first,
Now he grows such in action.
As my lord wills.
Vahataka, but what thinkst thou of it?
Your Highness speaks by the strict rule of statecraft:4
Then is a foeman easiest to pluck out
When new upon his throne; for then his roots
Have not sunk deep into his people’s hearts,
And he is like an infant shooting tree
Loose in its native earth, soon therefore uprooted.
Wise is the Tantra’s author and his word
A gospel. Let us seize this plea to set
Our war in motion.
I will so give order.
Exit Vahataka, the attendants take their places
according to their offices; enter Gautama.
Now can I tell the King that not in vain
He sought for my assistance: “Gautama,” he said
Calling me, “know you not some exquisite cunning
By which the face of Malavica seen 
At first by chance on a dumb counterfeit
With the dear life may bless my vision?” Well,
By this I have planned somewhat worth the telling.
Here comes my Premier in another field
Of policy.
Hail to the King.
Be seated.
Well, Gautama, and has your eye of wisdom
Caught sight of any plan?
Ask me, my lord,
About the accomplishment.
How!
In your ear, Sir.
O admirable! Thou hast indeed devised
The cunningest adroitness! Now I dare
To hope for things impossible, since thou
Art of my counsels part. In difficulty
How necessary is a helpful friend;
For when one is befriended, every hindrance
Is turned to ease. Even so without a lamp
The eye beholds not in night’s murky gloom
Its usual objects.
Enough, enough, thou braggart.
Before the King himself shall be decision
Of less and greater ’twixt us twain.
Listen!
This is the flower of your good tree of counsel!
The fruit’s not far behind.
The Premier, Sire,
Announces that Your Highness’ will ere this
Is put in motion. Here besides the great
Stage-Masters, Haradutta and Ganadasa,
Storming with anger, mad with emulation,
Themselves like two incarnate passions, ask
To see Your Highness.
Admit them.
Exit and re-enter with Haradutta and Ganadasa.
This way, this way, noble and worthy signiors.
How quelling-awful in its majesty
Is the great brow and aspect of a King!
For nowise unfamiliar is this face
Of Agnimitra, no, nor stern, but full
Of beauty and kindness, yet with awe I near him.
So Ocean in his vast unresting surge
Stales never, but each changing second brings
New aspects of his grandeur to the eye
That lives with waves even as this kingly brow does
Each time I see it.
For ’tis no mortal greatness
But God’s own glory in an earthly dwelling.
Of princes, led to the foot of his great throne
By one that ever moves near to his lustre,
Feel yet forbidden by his silent glories
That force me to avert my dazzled gaze.
Here is my lord. Approach him, worthies.
Hail,
Our sovereign!
Welcome to both. Chairs for these signiors?
What brings into the presence at this hour
Usual to study both the high stage-Masters?
Sir, hear me! from a great and sacred teacher
My craft was studied. I have justified
My genius in the scenic pomps of dance.
Surely I know it.
Yet being what I am, I have been taxed,
Insulted, censured by this Haradutta:
“You are not worth the dust upon my shoes”,
Before the greatest subject in the land
Thus did he scorn me.
He first began detraction
Crying to me, “As well, sir, might your worship
Compete with me as one particular puddle
Equal itself to Ocean.” Therefore, my lord,
Judge twixt my art and his as well in science
As in the execution. Than Your Highness
We cannot ask a more discerning critic
Or just examiner.
A good proposal.
First-class. And now, my lord, attend and judge.
A moment’s patience, gentlemen. The Queen
Might tax our verdict as a partial judgment.
Therefore in all ways it were better far
She too should watch this trial, Caushiquie
Will give her learned aid.
Well urged, my lord.
Your Highness’ pleasure shall command our patience.
Then go, Maudgalya, let Her Highness know
All that has chanced and call her to us here
With Caushiquie.
I go, my lord.
Exit and re-enter with the Queen and Caushiquie.
My lady Dharinie.
Good mother, tell me
What do you think of this so sudden passion
Twixt Haradutta and Ganadasa?
Idly
You fear your side’s defeat, since in no point
Is Ganadasa less than his opponent.5
’Tis so, but the King’s favour weighs him down
And wrests pre-eminence to the other.
Forget not
That you too bear the style of majesty.
Think6 that you are an Empress! If fire
From the sun’s grace derives his flaming glories,
Night too the imperial darkness solemnises
The moon with splendour.
Hawk, hawk,7 my lord!
Here comes the Queen and with her our own
Back-scratcher in Love’s wrestling match, the learned
Dame Caushiquie.
I see her. How fair, how noble
My lady shines adorned with holy symbols
And Caushiquie before her, anchorite.
Religion’s self incarnate so might look
When high philosophy comes leading her
Into the hearts of men.
Greeting Your Highness.
Mother, I greet thee.
Live a hundred years
Blessed with two queens alike in sweet submission
And mothers of heroic births, the Earth
That bears thy nation and the wife who loves thee.
Victory to the King!
Welcome, my Queen.
Pray you sit down, good mother. In this collision
Of two great masters, it is just that you
Should take the critic’s chair.
Your Highness seeks
To laugh at me. For who is that mad man
Would leave behind his great metropolis
To test his jewels in some petty village?
No, no! You are the learned Caushiquie,
Then too the Queen and I are both suspect
As partial judges.
This is no less than truth.
Unbiassed is the learned mother’s mind.
Her judgment shall, by merit only swayed,
Leave no reserve behind.
Begin debate.
Not thus, my lord.
The soul of drama is in its performance,
And not for tilting theories is a field.
If I have any voice,
I say I do mislike the whole debate.
Her Highness must not dwarf me in her thinkings,
Misdeeming me inferior to my equal.
Come, come, my lady, do not let us lose
The sport of these great rams butting each other.
Why should they draw their salaries for nothing?
You always loved a quarrel.
Good mouse, no.
Rather I am your only peacemaker.
When two great elephants go mad with strength
And counter, until one of them is beaten
There’s no peace in the forest.
But surely, mother,
You have already seen either’s performance,
Judged of their action’s each particular
And studied grace in every movement.
Surely.
What else is’t then of which yet uninstructed
You need conviction?
Other but science; performance admirable
Distinguishes the first, but in himself
Is rooted and confined, the other’s skill
Ranging in swift transmission lightens forth,
(At home inapt and poor: who perfect in both
Him at the head we put of art’s instructors.)8
Sirs, you have heard the mother’s argument,
The brief and marrow being this that judgment
Goes by your visible proof of good instruction
To shape the pupil in her art.
This test
We both approve.
So then it stands, my lady?
Thus if a pupil, brainless or inapt
Blur in the act the Master’s deft instruction,
Rests then the blot upon the Teacher?
Madam,
So still ’tis judged. He who a block unworthy
Accepts to hew from it a masterpiece
Shows well the lightness of his wit.
What more now?
Too much already have I given my lord the rein,
Feeding his eagerness with my indulgence.
Desist, desist; this is an idle movement
And shapes to nothing good.
Well said, my lady.
Come, Ganadasa, eat in peace your sweetmeats
Upon the Muses’ day, a safe renown
Enjoying while you teach our girls to dance.
But in this path of rugged emulation
To stumble’s easy and disgrace expects you.
Indeed my lady’s words
Lend themselves to no other fair construction.
1 Being to the audience’ will already pledged,
To absolve me, even as yonder maidens are,
Attendants of Queen Dharinie to do her will.
2 Her Master of the Stage and know from him
How Malavica in her recent study
Progresses of the dance called Mime Antique
3 I was absorbed in the delightful jewel –
Look! ’tis a Python seal! here on this ring
Just ready from the jeweller’s for the Queen.
4 Your Highness speaks within the rules of policy: or by the rule politic:
5 Is Ganadasa second to his rival.
6 Remember
7 ’Ware, ’ware,
8 Dark at home; but him who is in both
Perfect, to do and teach, we count alone
A master and the head of all his craft.