1. Bhagavadajjukam - The Hermit and The Harlot - English

Director:

May Siva's foot protect thee! Palmists think highly of it -- The sapphires on the diadems Of eminent godlings rub it -- And its big toe has once been bent By the dastardly Ravana -- May Siva's foot protect thee!

Here is my house, I am going inside. (entering) Clown, where are you?

Clown:

Here I am, sir!

Director:

As long as there is nobody. I'll tell you something nice.

Clown:

All right, sir. (Goes outside, re-enters.) Nobody in the house, sir. Do tell me something nice, sir!

Director:

Now hear this. Today I met this Brahman; he had come from out of town, an astrologer whose accuracy has sprung from untold succesful predictions, and he made a prediction: "Sir," he said, "a week from today you'll have a show at the royal palace. The king is going to be greatly pleased by your performance and he'll give you a fortune." Now that prediction, which is sure to come true, has given me a lot of energy, so I'm going to put on a play.

Clown:

What kind of a play are you going to put on?

Director:

That is a good question. There are about ten different emotions that you can convey in any kind of play, and as far as I can see, good humor is the best. So I'll put on a farce.

Clown:

Sir? I never find humor even in a farce.

Director:

Then I must train you. The untrained mind finds nothing.

Clown:

Sir, then you must train me!

Director:

By all means. If you have set your mind on wisdom Follow the one who treads the good path --

Voice Backstage

Śāndilya, where are you?

Director (listening)

Follow me, the hermit, as his pupil Follows the stalwart Yogiśvara!

(Both exit.)

End of the Prologue

(Enter a Hermit.)

Hermit

Śāndilya, where are you! (Looking behind) Still nowhere to be seen. Typical of the boy, covered with immorality. And why! The body is a treasure trove of sickness. Fevers sway it, a lurking death rules it, and it has as much scope as a tree standing on a river bank constantly hemmed in by jetsam and flotsam. So you get yourself a body by endlessly multiplied merits and you are astounded. And if you see its faults eclipsed by the virtues of strength, beauty, health and what not, you are a madman! So perhaps that miserable boy is not entirely to blame. I'll summon him once more. Śāndilya, where are you!

(Enter Śāndilya.)

Śāndilya

So, for a start, I was born properly. My family thrived on what the jackals left, our tongues shrivelled from holding them, our Brahman's threads were glued to our necks, and weren't we utterly satisfied for being Brahman's! So there was nothing to eat in our house I was starved. I ran away to become a Buddhist, so I; could have breakfast. So I had breakfast, but these bastards only eat once a day. So I starved. I flung away the ochre robe, broke my begging bowl to smithereens, and walked out with this loin-cloth on and only an umbrella up. And finally I wind up the beast of burden of this evil guru. Where art thou, Reverend Sir, whence wendest thou thy way? The evil-membered one! I am sure he went out begging by himself because he wanted breakfast. So I don't suppose he can be far out yet. (He circles the stage and looks.) There is the reverend himself! (humbly) Beg pardon, beg pardon, Reverend Sir!

Hermit

Have no fear, Śāndilya, have no fear!

Śāndilya:

Reverend, in this world of man, with its constant brawls, where pleasure is the most, how do you do your begging?

Hermit:

Listen. I crave no honor; threats must always follow me, and the alms I need to feed myself come from lean folk. I walk this vice-addicted world cautiously, like a lake filled with sharks.

Śāndilya:

But Reverend Sir, I have no family, no brother nor father; why are you so gracious to me? After all, I have grabbed the hermit's staff not because I hoped for merit, but because I died of hunger.

Hermit:

Śāndilya, what is the meaning of this?

Śāndilya:

What but the truth? You always tell me that a lie is a fetter.

Hermit:

Of course, true enough. If one embraces falsehood, a fetter is wrought. Do you ask why? When an alert man does something good motivated by something good, the gods will forever protect the fruit of his goodness like a well-guarded trust.

Śāndilya:

But when does he get it back?

Hermit:

Whenever his detachment makes him superior.

Śāndilya:

Sir, how does one get superior?

Hermit:

By not wanting things.

Śāndilya:

Reverend, this raises the question how not to want things.

Hermit:

By being indifferent to love or hate. Why? "This constant balance in happiness and sorrow, keeping good measure in fear of joy, facing friend and foe with equal equanimity, that is what the wise call detachment."

Śāndilya:

But what is it?

Hermit:

There is no name for what does not exist yet.

Śāndilya:

But tell me, can it be done, sir?

Hermit:

Is there any doubt?

Śāndilya:

A lie! A lie!

Hermit:

You mean to say?

Śāndilya

Sir, why are you mad at me?

Hermit:

Thou wilt not learn.

Śāndilya:

I learn, or I don't. What does it matter to you? You are free!

Hermit:

Don't talk like that! There is a tradition that whipping is beneficial to a student. Therefore, in complete equanimity I shall whip you most beneficially.

Śāndilya:

O miracle! Thou castigatest in complete equanimity, O Reverend! Let's put an end to this dialogue; our time for begging is flying past.

Hermit:

Fool, it is still morning, not noon. It has been written: Thou shalt beg when the pestles are put down, when the coals have died and everyone has eaten. Let's walk into a garden to while away the time.

Śāndilya:

Oh, oh! Your Reverence is betraying his promises!

Hermit:

You mean to say?

Śāndilya:

Ain't Your Reverence the same, come good or bad?

Hermit:

Of course! My soul is the same, come good or bad, but my active self needs rest.

Śāndilya:

Sir, what is soul? What is the active self?

Hermit:

Listen! There is the inner soul which goes to heaven when we sleep. Then there is just soul, which does what it ought to do and travels from life to life. And then there is this soul we call the active self: 'Man is his body,' and this soul demands the happiness of rest.

Śāndilya

Sure, 'that soul, unaging, undying, indestructible, imperishable, forsooth is the Soul. And the soul that laughs, makes laugh, sleeps and dies, that is the active self.'

Hermit:

Learnt as taught.

Śāndilya:

Oh, oh! Get going! You've been had!

Hermit:

What do you mean to say?

Śāndilya:

Soul is what is now, right? There is nothing if there is no body.

Hermit:

Spoken like the populace. Differentiated beings go through phases, you know. Therefore, we speak in those terms.

Śāndilya:

And what phase are you in?

Hermit:

Listen. With a body augmented from particles of ether, wind, water and fire, and for the rest a pile of earth, conscious through ears, eyes, tongue, nose and touch, I am a breathing creature called man.

Śāndilya:

Oh, oh! This way you won't get to know yourself, let alone your Self! (looking about) Sir, here is a garden.

Hermit:

You go first. We are sheltered by the woods which are the refuge of the lonely.

Śāndilya:

Sir, Your Reverence should go first, I shall follow after.

Hermit:

To what purpose?

Śāndilya:

My ma once heard a holi woman say that a tiger dwells concealed in the blossoms of an aśoka tree. Therefore, you must go first, Sir!

Hermit:

Certainly. (They enter.)

(They enter.)

Śāndilya:

Ouch, I am bitten by a tiger! Save me from the tiger's maw! Unredeemed I am eaten by the tiger. My blood is oozing from my throat!

Hermit:

Have no fear, Śāndilya. It is only a peacock.

Śāndilya:

So it is a peacock!

Hermit:

Of course, just a peacock.

Śāndilya:

Then I'll open my eyes.

Hermit:

By all means.

Śāndilya:

Hey! That bastard tiger got scared of me, changed into a peacock, and now it is running away! (looking at the garden) O my! What a lovely garden! I see michelia campaka, terminalia arjuna, nauclea cadamba, ixora bandhucca, barringtonia acutangala, clerodendrum phlomoides, red amaranthus, pterospermum acerifolium, camphor, mango, panicium italicum, shal, brassus flabelliformis, xanthochymus pictorius, calophyllum inophyllum, mesu roxburghii, mimusops elengi, pinus longifolia, vatica robusta, vitex negundo, crab grass, mimusops hexandra, alstonia scholaris, oleander wrightia antidysenterica, citron, sandal, aśoka, jasminum zambac, anandi, avarta, tabernaemontana coronaria, and plantain banana, all made pretty by spring! And I see sprouts, leaves, blossoms, herries,

(looking at the garden)

flowers, and clusters, all in a garden adorned with pavilions of pearl shrubs and jasmine creepers, resonant with the sweet warblings of peacocks, cuckoos and madding bees. This is a garden that brings remorse to young women who suffer in the absence of their lovers and happiness to those who have theirs present!

Hermit:

Fool! Day after day the senses crumble, so what is so lovely?

Look, 'Tis a child exclaims, Oh Spring has come Wrapped in a cloak of blossoms! And revels in new seasons: Fall has come Floating in lily clusters! But what is he rejoicing in but That Life is growing shorter?

Śāndilya:

A question? Loveliness is when and where it happens.

Hermit:

Once more, no educational background! People -- they pray for the future, mourn over the past and hate the present.

Śāndilya:

Here is the end of the road. Where shall we sit down?

Hermit:

Right here we shall settle down.

Śāndilya:

Dirty, dirty!

Hermit:

"The woods are clean, the earth is pure."

Śāndilya:

But if you want to sit down when you are tired, you always ask, is it clean or dirty?

Hermit:

Revelation is the authority, not I. Why? There's no relying on people maddened by their self-esteem, who guarantee that good comes of evil -- their authority is strictly a matter of whim.

Śāndilya:

So there's no relying on your talking so much.

Hermit:

Come, my son. Learn a little.

Śāndilya:

I won't learn any more.

Hermit:

Why not?

Śāndilya:

What is the point of learning more?

Hermit:

Students who have learnt their lessons eventually understand them. So learn a little.

Śāndilya:

And then what happens?

Hermit:

Listen: from knowledge grows wisdom, from wisdom self-control, from self-control mortification, from mortification Yoga, from Yoga the insight into the realities of past, present and future; and from that insight one attains to Eightfold Mastery.

Śāndilya:

O Master, thou speakest while divining my thoughts at will; however, I may conceal them! It's possible then to get into other people's houses without sin?

Hermit:

What do you mean?

Śāndilya:

What I mean is to eat the meals from the monastery that have been prepared deliciously for the Buddhist friars.

Hermit:

Your gluttony watches no clock!

Śāndilya:

That's why you are all bald! I see no other reason for you.

Hermit:

Don't speak like this! Great is the fruit of superior Yoga, Uncheckable, unshakable, unthinkable, imperishable, Cherished and honored by highminded Brahmins, Approved by the best minds of demons and gods.

Śāndilya:

Then you think devotedly of your Yoga, but stay by yourself. Me, I'll think devotedly of porridge. But Sir, hermits like you sure think a lot of this Yoga, don't you? What is it anyway?

Hermit:

Listen: Quintessence of austerity, Root of all knowledge, test of truth, Solving all contrasts, and devoid Of love and hatred, that is Yoga!

Śāndilya:

Glory to the reverend Buddha, who preaches to neglect our meals, to neglect our all!

Hermit:

Śāndilya! What is the meaning of this?

Śāndilya:

Sir? Don't you remember? I first became a Buddhist to get some breakfast.

Hermit

But now you have learnt something?

Śāndilya

Something? I know a lot now.

Hermit

So be it. Let us listen.

Śāndilya

Listen, sir. "Eight are the causes, sixteen the products, but the soul is five-winded, the mind thrice-corded, and it roves and dissolves." That's what the holy Buddha said in the Books of the Canon.

Hermit

Śāndilya! That is not Buddhism! That is Sāṅkhya.

Śāndilya

Sorry, hunger made me concentrate on porridge, so I thought of one thing and said another. Now hear this, Sir. "Decree is that monk refuse ungiven gifts. Decree is that monk refuse to hurt life. Decree is that monk refuse to babble. Decree is that monk refuse sex. Decree is that monk refuse untimely meals. To the Buddha, to the Creed, to the Order I go for help!"

Hermit

Śāndilya, don't go beyond your creed and embrace another! Give up the dark, give up the red. Abide by the white and remain alert. Now swiftly do your meditations, for they shall bring all wisdom on.

Śāndilya

Now you devoutly contemplate Yoga, Sir. I'll contemplate porridge with equal devotion.

Hermit

Let's stop this conversation. For the bondage of the soul, suspend this world! Harness the senses to the soul! With the aid of knowledge, seek out the truth; with all your soul, find the whole soul!

(Enter a courtesan and two handmaidens.)

Enter a courtesan and two handmaidens.

Courtesan

Little Bee, dear, where did Little Lover go?

Maiden

Ma'am, "Here I come," he said, and there he went into the city, your Repeater!

Courtesan

O dear, now what?

Maiden

Hurry to the club, what else?

Courtesan

The club doesn't meet today.

Maiden

Ma'am, you are so right. But the club is a bar and the women, however modest, get drunk and laugh!

Courtesan

Then you better hurry!

Maiden

And so must you, ma'am!

(Exits.)

Courtesan

Little Cuckoo, dear, where shall we sit down?

Maiden

Sit down on this stone bench for a little while. Look, it is adorned with a blossoming mango shoot, like a mouche on the face! And then, ma'am, you should sing a piece!

Courtesan

Little Cuckoo, my dear, I shall do exactly that.

(They both sit down and sing.)

Both

Oh, Love himself is here! I hear With cuckoos and bees his bowstring sing And mango shafts ring -- And sure enough a seer's Mind leers!

Śāndilya

(listening) Ah, the call of a cuckoo! No, not quite the call of the cuckoo. No, it is a song. (He surmises.) A sweet song, sweet as butter rising in sugared milk. All right, I'll have a look. (He walks a little and looks up.) Oh, oh, oh! Who is this pristine beauty, graced by the grace of hiding in no harem? And who also sits down to grace our garden?

Maiden

Madame!

Śāndilya

Oh, oh, oh! A courtesan! Blessed are the rich!

Maiden

Do sing another piece, madame!

Courtesan

I think I will. (She sings again.) Oh, Love is here again! And Spring has raised his pride And the glances of mistresses go with him! Ah, Love strikes love again! And even the hearts of cherished brides Are once more flower-struck by him!

Śāndilya

How sweetly does the song rise from her throat! Listen, sir!

Hermit

No, the ear was made to hear. I won't go as far as to listen.

Śāndilya

Make it as far, if you have money to spare, ha ha!

Hermit

Oh, go away, you. Behave yourself.

Śāndilya

Now don't get mad. Hermits aren't supposed to, you know.

Hermit

I am observing silence.

Śāndilya

Yeah, isn't it golden!

(Enter a Servant of Death.)

Enter a Servant of Death.

Servant

And here I come! I was Sent by Him Who takes all creatures Smote by fate, who Else but He Who sees Right and evil acts, God Yama, Pacifier, and now I'm charged To bestow death upon them, Their inalienable right.

Servant

Thus, surveying the earth will all her kingdoms, rivers, woods and mountains, shaded by clouds that bend under their load of rain, I have traversed the sky with its wind-tossed mists and atmospheric denizens, and now arrive where Yama sent me, the City of Tarkādivāha! Now where is she! (looking about) There she is! There she shines, concealed by those charming golden- colored aśoka clusters in full bloom, making her beautiful like the crescent moon amidst the ruddy clouds of dusk! All right, she has a tiny bit of karma left, so I'll wait a while before I take her life.

Maiden

Ma'am, isn't this aśoka blossom pretty? I'll pluck it.

Courtesan

No no no, I'll pluck it myself!

Servant

This is the time to pinch her. Now I'll become a snake, sit on the aśoka branch and take her life. Here I go, and upon this dark-skinned, pleasant-faced, gentle- spoken, well-imbibed, generously-curved, moistiy- perfumed, red-lotus-eyed thieevss of my eyes I now nimbly leap and take her to my master.

(Courtesan plucks a flower.)

Courtesan plucks a flower.

Servant

Now is the time to pinch her!

Courtesan

Ouch, something bit me!

Maiden

(looking at the branch) Mistress! There's a snake on that branch!

looking at the branch

Courtesan

A snake? Ooh! (She falls down.)

She falls down.

Śāndilya:

Now what is going on here?

Maiden:

Sir, my mistress has been bitten by a cobra!

Śāndilya:

Oh, oh, oh! Master, here's a courtesan bitten by a cobra.

Hermit:

Well, time must have a stop. Forsooth, People are born only to fill out their time; If time is through, so are they.

Maiden:

What can stop time?

Courtesan:

My body seems to collapse. I am out of breath. I must lie down.

Maiden:

Lie peacefully, ma'am.

Courtesan:

Bring my greetings to mother, my dear.

Maiden:

Oh no! You will go and greet her yourself!

Courtesan:

And embrace Little Lover for me.

(She loses consciousness and falls down.)

Maiden:

Aah! Mistress is dying!

Servant:

All right, I have got her life and I should be on my way. There's still the Ganges to cross, and the Vindhya mountains, and the auspicious flow of the Nerbudda River, the Sahya, the Goleyī, the Krṣṇaveṇa, and the well-theatred city of Conjeeveram, abode of God Śiva. And then of course the Kāverī, the Tāmaparṇī, the Malaya range and at last the ocean, until I, swift as the wind, fly over to Ceylon and reach Death's country.

(Exit.)

Maiden:

Aah! My mistress is dead!

Śāndilya:

Master! The courtesan has lost her life?

Hermit:

People don't lose their lives, fool! Life is too precious to them. Better say that life has lost them!

Śāndilya:

Ban, you have no pity, no love at all. Hard-hearted, wicked profligate! Cruel crook with your tenuous tonsure!

Hermit:

What is the meaning of this?

Śāndilya:

Wait, I am just starting your thousand names!

Hermit:

Don't let me stop you.

Śāndilya:

Sir, I am in mourning.

Hermit:

Whatever for?

Śāndilya:

She is a relative.

Hermit:

A relative?

Śāndilya:

She is like any other hermit; she has no love.

Hermit:

Yes, that is right! Slow to love, we love for ulterior purposes. Forsooth, we who unselfishly are given to Release and travel the path ordained by Scripture, we turn away from mere affection and our hearts look but to virtues.

Śāndilya:

Sir, I cannot control myself, I'll crawl to her and weep!

Hermit:

Oh no, you won't!

Śāndilya:

Don't get mad! Hermits aren't supposed to. (approaching the Courtesan) Oh my mistress! So well-endowed with lovers, so sweetly swaying!

Maiden:

Sir, what is the matter with you?

Śāndilya:

Nothing but love.

Maiden:

(to herself) That's right; saints have compassion for all.

Śāndilya:

My lady, let me touch her.

Maiden:

You have the power, sir.

Śāndilya:

Oh dear! (He touches her feet.)

Maiden:

Don't touch her feet!

Śāndilya:

Oh dear, I am thoroughly confused. I can't make head or tails of her. Ah, here they, firm like coconuts, anointed with saffron and sandal, briskly pointing upward, my lady's divine breasts which unfortunately were never available to me when she was alive.

Maiden:

(to herself) That's what I shall do. (aloud) Sir, please wait a while, while I bring her mother.

Śāndilya:

Do not tarry. To the motherless I am a mother.

Maiden:

(to herself) This compassionate Brahman won't desert my mistress; I'd better go. (Exits.)

(to herself) (Exits.)

Śāndilya:

She is gone. Now I can cry to my heart's content. O poor harlot that walked so sweetly! (He weeps.)

(He weeps.)

Hermit:

Śāndilya, don't do that!

Śāndilya:

Go away, man of no love. You think I am like you.

Hermit:

Come, my son, learn a little.

Śāndilya:

Sir, how can this poor bereft woman be cured?

Hermit:

You know any medicine?

Śāndilya:

Sin is the fruit of your Yoga!

Hermit:

(to himself) The poor fellow does not yet know that to be a hermit is not to know what is to be done. There is a rule that has been revealed to the great Śaivite Masters of Yoga: "The compassion of pupils reinforces their attachments." Then I'll generate an insight in him. Right, this is the right Yoga. With this Yoga I shall inject myself into the body of this courtesan.

(to himself)

Courtesan:

(rising from the dead) Śāndilya, Śāndilya!

(rising from the dead)

Śāndilya:

(happily): Ha! Ma'am you are alive, you have been resurrected! Here I am, ma'am!

(happily):

Courtesan:

Don't you touch me with your unwashed hands!

Śāndilya:

But I am terribly clean!

Courtesan:

Come, my son, learn a little.

Śāndilya:

Even here I must learn! All right, here I approach your reverence humbly. (He draws near to the Hermit's corpse.) Sir, too bad you're dead. Sorry, loquacious, all-too-yoga-minded master! Sorry, professor. Thus even geniuses die.

(He draws near to the Hermit's corpse.)

(Enter the Courtesan's Mother and the Maiden.)

(Enter the Courtesan's Mother and the Maiden.)

Maiden:

This way, mother.

Mother:

Where is my darling?

Maiden:

Here she is, in this garden, bitten by a cobra.

Mother

Aah, I am lost!

Maiden

Calm down, mother, calm down! This mistress is all right!

Mother

How can she be well? (approaching) Vasantasenā, my daughter! What is going on?

Courtesan

No touching please, old hag!

Mother

Well, I never! What is the meaning of this?

Maiden

The poison must have gone to her mind!

Mother

Hurry, get a physician!

Maiden

Yes, ma'am!

(Enter Little Lover and Second Maiden.)

Enter Little Lover and Second Maiden.

Maiden

More power to you, Little Lover! My mistress suffers when she does not see her Repeater.

Little Lover

And so do I wish to see that sweetly warbling, wide-eyed face. It is the honey bee's vow to drink the lovely lotus that is blooming. (approaching) What! She looks at me and turns away her face! (He grabs the hem of her skirt.) Turn, O curvaceous one, the lotus of thy face, like a lily turned slightly by a ripple in the pond. Thy seldom seen face is as pleasing as water cupped in the hand with plenty left.

Courtesan

Unregenerate! Let go of my hem!

Little Lover

What is this?

Maiden

Even since the snake bit her she has been incoherent.

Little Lover

Her mind is obviously gone. The poor woman is plunged in a void, violated in her own body by someone with a pure mind.

(Enter the Physician and Maiden.)

Enter the Physician and Maiden.

Maiden

This way, sir, please!

Physician

(entering) Where is she?

entering

Maiden

There is madame.

Physician

She sure isn't herself. She must have been attacked and bitten by a cobra.

Maiden:

How did you know?

Physician:

As they say, "Poison makes a big difference." Bring her here. I have had quite a few stabs at the Books of Poison. (He sits down and draws a magic circle.) Little ring, thou that snakest like the Lady of the Earring, enter the magic ring, the magic ring! Stop, son of a snake, stop! Hush hush! I am going to bleed her. Where is my little hatchet?

Courtesan:

Fool, stop your plodding!

Physician:

Aha! Bile, too. Flatulence, bile or phleghm, I'll cure it.

Little Lover:

Do try, sir. You won't find us ungrateful.

Physician:

I'll bring a poison charmer who has very pretty pills. (Exits.)

(Enter the Servant of Death.)

Servant:

Wow, didn't Yama make ashes of me! "That is not Vasantasenā!" he roared. "Bring her back at once! Get the other Vasantasenā, the one whose life is up, and fast!" Well, as long as the body has not been cremated, I'll revive her. (looking about) Hey, she's already up and about! Up and about, while her life was in my hand, who has ever seen such a miracle! (looking everywhere) Oh oh! That is no one else but the great Yogi at his games. I'll put the harlot's soul in the hermit's body, and then inject her life in the right place. (He does so.) Behold! The woman's vital force Injected in this saintly frame Shall make this Hermit change for worse In morals, character and fame.

Hermit:

(rising) Little Cuckoo!

Śāndilya:

Oh, oh, oh! His reverence is resurrected again! I have always thought the wretched never die.

Hermit:

Little Lover, where are you, where are you?

Little Lover:

Little Lover, embrace me!

Śāndilya:

Go embrace this rose bush!

Hermit

Oh my Little Lover, aren't I silly! I am drunk!

Śāndilya

No, you're just plain mad!

Little Lover

Your Holiness, your speech is unbecoming to your station.

Hermit

Let's have another drink.

Śāndilya

Go get yourself some poison. All right, I am beginning to know what a farce is. No hermit, no harlot, or you might call it the hermit-harlot. All right.

Hermit

Little Cuckoo, Little Cuckoo, embrace me!

Maiden

Go away!

Mother

Daughter Vasantasenā!

Hermit

Here I am, Mom. Hi, Mom!

Mother

But sir, what is going on?

Hermit

Mom, you are rejecting me! Little Lover, you are being very slow today.

Little Lover

Sir, I am impotent!

Śāndilya

All right now, all right!

(Enter the Physician.)

Enter the Physician.

Physician

I got eight pills and some herbs. This much I know, it will be either instant life or instant death. Water somebody, water! (He approaches the Maiden.)

He approaches the Maiden.

Maiden

Here is the water.

Physician

I'm grinding a pill. Hey, she hasn't been bitten; she's possessed.

Courtesan

You fool, you have grown old too late. You don't even know who is dying. Admit it, I haven't been bitten by a snake.

Physician

So what's all the fuss?

Courtesan

You have your text books, don't you?

Physician

Sure, a lot of them, at least half a thousand.

Courtesan

Then recite your books!

Physician

Ma'am, listen. "The flatulent, bilious and the phle --" "Oh oh! a book, a book!"

Śāndilya

Aho, a typical doctor. He has forgotten already. All right, colleague, here is the book.

Physician

Ma'am, listen. "The flatulent, bilious and phleghmatic diseases, derive all three from poison, the fourth one is unknown."

Courtesan

Poor language. You should say "all three derive." Always place the subject first.

Physician

Ouch, I have been bitten by a grammarian!

Courtesan

How many are the symptoms of snake bite?

Physician

A hundred.

Courtesan

No, there are seven, to wit: "Gooseflesh, dry mouth, tremors, pallor, hiccoughs, quick breathing and faints are the seven symptoms of snake bite." A man who is past these symptoms not even the Asvins can cure. If you have anything to reply, speak up.

Physician

I am out of my depth. Good bye, Ma'am. I am going.

(Enter the Servant of Death.)

Servant

Hi, here I am again. See how the mortals run To visit me -- abortions, Blisters, fever, earaches, Gastric, cardiac, opthalmic Ills and just plain headaches, And other assorted disorders: See the merry mortals run! Now to my master's orders. (approaching the Harlot) Sir, doff that creature's body.

Courtesan

Gladly.

Servant

So I can exchange souls and do what I was supposed to do in the first place. (He does so and exits.)

Hermit

Śāndilya, Śāndilya!

Śāndilya

My, His Reverence keeps being resurrected.

Courtesan

Little Cuckoo! Little Cuckoo!

Maiden

Finally she is talking sense again.

Mother

Daughter Vasantasenā!

Little Lover

Ah, she has come to her senses! Sweetest Vasantasenā, this way!

(Exit Courtesan, Little Lover, Maiden, retinue and Mother.)

Sandilya

Sir, what has been going on?

Hermit

That's a long story, I'll tell it at home. (looking at the sky) The day has gone. The sun has vanished from the hem of heaven, A gold pile gone before a robber's eyes. Its splendors redden the marching clouds, The sky is pregnant with a womb of fire.

(Both exit.)

May bliss befall all moving creatures, And may we love each other's luck. May all the vices find their ruin. And all the world be happy everywhere.

Final Benediction