{"id":1757,"date":"2013-07-13T01:37:07","date_gmt":"2013-07-13T01:37:07","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/localhost\/?p=1757"},"modified":"2013-07-13T01:37:07","modified_gmt":"2013-07-13T01:37:07","slug":"10-the-prince-of-edur-act-iii-vol-03-04-collected-plays-and-stories","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/01-works-of-sri-aurobindo\/03-cwsa\/03-04-collected-plays-and-stories\/10-the-prince-of-edur-act-iii-vol-03-04-collected-plays-and-stories","title":{"rendered":"-10_The Prince of Edur- Act – III.htm"},"content":{"rendered":"


\n
\n<\/p>\n

\n\n\n
\n

 <\/td>\n

\n
\n
\n<\/p>\n

\nAct III<\/b><\/p>\n

 <\/font><\/p>\n

\n
\nThe forest near Dongurh.<\/i><\/b><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

\nScene
\n1<\/a><\/b><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

\nComol, Coomood, meeting in the forest.<\/i><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

COOMOOD<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

Where were you hidden, Comol, all this morning?<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

COMOL<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

I have been wandering in my woods alone<\/p>\n

Imagining myself their mountain queen.<\/p>\n

O Coomood, all the woodland worshipped me!<\/p>\n

Coomood, the flowers held up their incense-bowls<\/p>\n

In adoration and the soft-voiced winds<\/p>\n

Footing with a light ease among the leaves<\/p>\n

Paused to lean down and lisp into my ear,<\/p>\n

Oh, pure delight. The forest’s unnamed birds<\/p>\n

Hymned their sweet sovran lady as she walked<\/p>\n

Lavishing melody. The furry squirrels<\/p>\n

Peeped from the leaves and waved their bushy tails,<\/p>\n

Twittering, “There goes she, our beloved lady,<\/p>\n

Comol Cumary”; and the peacocks came<\/p>\n

Proud to be seen by me and danced in front,<\/p>\n

Shrilling, “How gorgeous are we in our beauty,<\/p>\n

Yet not so beautiful as is our lady,<\/p>\n

Comol Cumary.” I will be worshipped, Coomood.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

COOMOOD<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

You shall be. There’s no goddess of them all<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\n
\nPage \u2013 918<\/p>\n

\n

<\/font><\/font><\/span>
\n<\/p>\n

\nThat has these vernal looks and such a body<\/p>\n

Remembering the glory whence it came<\/p>\n

\nOr apt to tread with the light vagrant breeze<\/p>\n

Or rest with moonlight.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

COMOL<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

That was what they told me,<\/p>\n

\nThe voices of the forest, sister Coomood, \u2014 <\/p>\n

The myriad voices.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

COOMOOD<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

What did they tell you, Comol?<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

COMOL<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

They told me that my hair was a soft dimness<\/p>\n

\nWith thoughts of light imprisoned in’t; the gods,<\/p>\n

They said, looked down from heaven and saw my eyes<\/p>\n

\nWishing that that were heaven. They told me, child,<\/p>\n

My face was such as Brahma once had dreamed of<\/p>\n

\nBut could not, \u2014  no, for all the master-skill<\/p>\n

That made the worlds, \u2014  recapture in the flesh<\/p>\n

\nSo rare a sweetness. They called my perfect body<\/p>\n

A feast of gracious beauty, a refrain<\/p>\n

\nAnd harmony in womanhood embodied.<\/p>\n

They told me all these things, \u2014  Coomood, they did,<\/p>\n

\nThough you will not believe it. I understood<\/p>\n

Their leafy language.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

COOMOOD<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

Come, you did not need<\/p>\n

\nSo to translate the murmurings of the leaves<\/p>\n

And the wind’s whisper. ‘Twas a human voice<\/p>\n

\nI’ll swear, so deftly flattered you.<\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

COMOL<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

Fie, Coomood,<\/p>\n

It was the trees, the waters; the pure, soft flowers<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n


\nPage \u2013 919<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

\n

\n
\nTook voices.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n<\/p>\n

COOMOOD<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

One voice. Did he roar softly, sweetheart,<\/p>\n

\nTo woo you?<\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

COMOL<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

Oh, he’s a recreant to his duty.<\/p>\n

He loves the wild-deer fleeing on the hills<\/p>\n

\nAnd the strong foeman’s glittering blade, not Comol.<\/p>\n

You must not talk of him, but of the hills<\/p>\n

\nAnd greenness and of me.<\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

COOMOOD<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

And Edur, Comol?<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

COMOL<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

Edur! It is a name that I have heard<\/p>\n

In some dim past, in some old far-off world<\/p>\n

\nI moved in, oh, a waste of centuries<\/p>\n

And many dreams ago. I’ll not return there.<\/p>\n

\nIt had no trees, I’m sure, no jasmine-bushes,<\/p>\n

No happy breezes dancing with linked hands<\/p>\n

\nOver the hill-tops, no proud-seated hills<\/p>\n

Softening the azure, high-coped deep-plunging rocks<\/p>\n

\nOr flowery greenness round, no birds, no Spring.<\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

COOMOOD<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

We are the distance of a world from Edur.<\/p>\n

Tomorrow is the May-feast’s crowning day,<\/p>\n

\nComol.<\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

COMOL<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

Oh then we shall be happy breezes<\/p>\n

\nAnd dance with linked hands upon the hills<\/p>\n

All the Spring-morning.<\/p>\n


\nPage \u2013 920<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

\n

<\/p>\n

COOMOOD<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

It is a May to be<\/p>\n

Remembered.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

COMOL<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

It is the May-feast of my life,<\/p>\n

\nCoomood, the May-feast of my life, the May<\/p>\n

That in my heart shall last for ever, sweet,<\/p>\n

\nFor ever and for ever. Where are our sisters?<\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

COOMOOD<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

Nirmol is carrying water from the spring;<\/p>\n

Ishany hunts the browsing stag today,<\/p>\n

\nA sylvan archeress.<\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

COMOL<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

What have you in the basket?<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

COOMOOD<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

Flowers I have robbed the greenest woodland of<\/p>\n

For Bappa’s worship. They must hide with bloom<\/p>\n

\nSheva Ekling today. Tomorrow, sweet,<\/p>\n

I’ll gather blossoms for your hair instead<\/p>\n

\nAnd weave you silver-petalled anklets, earrings<\/p>\n

Of bright maybloom, zones of Spring honeysuckle,<\/p>\n

\nAnd hide your arms in vernal gold. We’ll set you<\/p>\n

Under a bough, our goddess of the Spring,<\/p>\n

\nAnd sylvanly adore, covering your feet<\/p>\n

With flowers that almost match their moonbeam whiteness<\/p>\n

\nOr palely imitate their rose; \u2014  our Lady,<\/p>\n

Comol Cumary.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

COMOL<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

Will Bappa worship me?<\/p>\n

\nBut I am an inferior goddess, Coomood,<\/p>\n

And dare not ask the King of Paradise<\/p>\n

\nTo adore me.<\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n


\nPage \u2013 921<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

\n

COOMOOD<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

You must adore him, that’s your part.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

COMOL<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

I will, while ’tis the May.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

COOMOOD<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

And afterwards?<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

COMOL<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

Coomood, we will not think of afterwards<\/p>\n

In Dongurh, in the springtide.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

COOMOOD<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

Tomorrow dawns<\/p>\n

\nThe seventh morning, Comol.<\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

COMOL<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

I did not hear you.<\/p>\n

Are these our hunters?<\/p>\n

\nEnter Prithuraj and Ishany.<\/i><\/p>\n

ISHANY<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

I have a better aim<\/p>\n

Than yours.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

PRITHURAJ<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

Did I deny it? Oh, you shoot<\/p>\n

\nRight through the heart.<\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

ISHANY<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

I’ll never marry one<\/p>\n

Whom I outdo at war or archery.<\/p>\n

\nYou tell me you are famous Martund’s son,<\/p>\n

The mighty Gehlote. Wherefore lurk you then<\/p>\n

\nIn unapproachable and tangled woods<\/p>\n

Warding off glory with your distant shafts,<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n


\nPage \u2013 922<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

\n

While life sweeps past in the loud vale below?<\/p>\n

\nNot breast the torrent, not outbrave its shocks<\/p>\n

To carve your names upon the rocks of Time<\/p>\n

\nIndelibly?<\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

P<\/span><\/span><\/font>RITHURAJ<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

We will affront, Ishany,<\/p>\n

The Ganges yet with a victorious gleam<\/p>\n

\nOf armour. But our fates are infant still<\/p>\n

And in their native thickets they must wait<\/p>\n

\nTo flesh themselves and feel their lion strengths<\/p>\n

Before they roar abroad.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I<\/font>SHANY<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

Until they do,<\/p>\n

\nTalk not of love.<\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

P<\/font>RITHURAJ<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

What would you have me do?<\/p>\n

O’erbear in arms the Scythian Toraman,<\/p>\n

\nAnd slay the giant Hooshka? meet Ichalgurh<\/p>\n

And come unharmed, or with my single sword<\/p>\n

\nSay halt to a proud score of the best lances<\/p>\n

You have in Edur? This and more I can<\/p>\n

\nFor thee, Ishany.<\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

ISHANY<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

You talk, but do it first.<\/p>\n

Doers were never talkers, Prithuraj.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

PRITHURAJ<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

Oh, that’s a narrow maxim. Noble speech<\/p>\n

\nIs a high prelude fit for noble deeds;<\/p>\n

It is the lion’s roar before he leaps.<\/p>\n

\nProud eloquence graces the puissant arm<\/p>\n

And from the hall of council to the field<\/p>\n

\nWas with the great and iron men of old<\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n


\nPage \u2013 923<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

\n

\nTheir natural stepping.<\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

I<\/font>SHANY<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

You only roar as yet.<\/p>\n

\nI beat you with the bow today; sometime<\/p>\n

I’ll fight you with the sword and beat you.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

PRITHURAJ<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

Will you?<\/p>\n

\nJust as your lady did?<\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

ISHANY<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

She played, she played,<\/p>\n

But I would aim in earnest at your heart.<\/p>\n

\nOne day we’ll fight and see.<\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

P<\/font>RITHURAJ<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

Why, if we do,<\/p>\n

I’ll claim a conqueror’s right on your sweet body,<\/p>\n

\nIshany.<\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

ISHANY<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

And my heart? You must do more,<\/p>\n

If you’ll have that.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

PRITHURAJ<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

It cannot now be long<\/p>\n

Before the mailed heel of Edur rings<\/p>\n

\nUpon our hillside rocks. Then I’ll deserve it.<\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

ISHANY<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

Till then you are my fellow-hunter only,<\/p>\n

Not yet my captain.<\/p>\n

\nEnter Nirmol.<\/i><\/p>\n

N<\/font>IRMOL<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

Idlers and ne’er-do-weels, home! Here have I carried twelve full jars from the spring, set wood on the stove, kindled the fire,<\/font><\/p>\n

\n<\/p>\n


\nPage \u2013 924<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

\n

while you play gracefully the sylvan gadabouts. Where is the
\nvenison?<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

P<\/font>RITHURAJ<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

Travelling to the cooking-pot on a Bheel’s black shoulders.<\/font><\/p>\n

\n<\/p>\n

N<\/font>IRMOL<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

To your service, Ishany! or you shall not taste the stag you have hunted.<\/font><\/p>\n

\n<\/p>\n

I<\/font>SHANY<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

Child, do not tyrannize. I am as hungry with this hunting as a
\nbeef-swallowing Scythian. <\/p>\n

\nExit.<\/i><\/p>\n

NIRMOL<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

Off with you, hero, and help her with your heroic shoulders.<\/p>\n

\nExit Prithuraj.<\/i><\/p>\n

COMOL<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

A pair of warlike lovers!<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

N<\/font>IRMOL<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

You are there, sister-truants? Have you no occupation but to lurk in leaves and eavesdrop upon the prattle of lovers?<\/font><\/p>\n

\n<\/p>\n

COMOL<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

Why, Nirmol, I did my service before I came.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

NIRMOL<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

Yes, I know! To sweep one room \u2014  oh, scrupulously clean, for
\nis it not Bappa’s? and to scrub his armour for a long hour till it is as bright as your eyes grow when they are looking at Bappa,
\n\u2014  do they not, Coomood?<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

COOMOOD<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

They do, like stars allowed to gaze at God.<\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n


\nPage \u2013 925<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

\n

N<\/font>IRMOL<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

Exact! I have seen her \u2014 <\/font> <\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

COMOL<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

Nirmol, I do not know how many twigs there are in the forest, but I will break them all on your back, if you persevere. <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

NIRMOL<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

Do you think you are princess of Edur here that you threaten me?
\nNo, we are in the democracy of Spring where all sweet flowers are equals. Oh, I will be revenged on you for your tyrannies in
\nEdur. I have seen her, Coomood, when she thought none was looking, lay her cheek wistfully against the hilt of his sword,
\ntrying to think that the cold hard iron was the warm lips of its master and hers. I have seen her kiss it furtively \u2014  <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\nC<\/font>OMOL<\/font> (embracing and stopping her mouth<\/i>)<\/p>\n

Hush, hush, you wicked romancer.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

NIRMOL<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

Go then and cook our meal like a good princess and I will
\npromise not to repeat all the things I have heard you murmur to yourself when you were alone.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

COMOL<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

Nirmol, you grow in wickedness with years.<\/p>\n

\nWait till I have you back in Edur, maiden;<\/p>\n

I’ll scourge this imp of mischief out of you.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

NIRMOL<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

I have heard her, Coomood, \u2014 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

COMOL<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

I am off, I am away! I am an arrow from Kodal’s bow.<\/p>\n

\nExit.<\/i><\/p>\n


\nPage \u2013 926<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

\n

N<\/font>IRMOL<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

She is hard to drive, but I have the whiphand of her.<\/font><\/p>\n

\n<\/p>\n

COOMOOD<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

Have you the crimson sandal-powder ready?<\/p>\n

Flowers for the garlands Spring in sweet abundance<\/p>\n

\nProvides us.<\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

N<\/font>IRMOL<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

Yes. She shall be wedded fast<\/p>\n

Before she knows it.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

COOMOOD<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

Unless my father’s sword<\/p>\n

\nStriking us through the flowery walls we hide in,<\/p>\n

Prevent it, Nirmol.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

NIRMOL<\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

Coomood, our fragile flowers will weave<\/p>\n

\nA bond that steel cannot divide, nor death<\/p>\n

Dissever.<\/p>\n

\nExeunt.<\/i><\/p>\n


\nPage \u2013 927<\/p>\n

<\/font>
\n\t\t\t<\/font>
\n<\/span>
\n\t\t\t<\/font><\/span>\n\t\t\t<\/td>\n

\n

 <\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/div>\n

<\/span><\/a><\/span><\/a><\/b><\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/td>\n

\n

 <\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/div>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

  Act III   The forest near Dongurh.   Scene 1   Comol, Coomood, meeting in the forest.   COOMOOD Where were you hidden, Comol,…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[39],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1757","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-03-04-collected-plays-and-stories","wpcat-39-id"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1757","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1757"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1757\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1757"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1757"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1757"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}