In literature a drama genre deserves your attention. Dramas are usually called plays. Every person is made up of two parts: good and evil. Due to life circumstances, the human reveals one or another side of his nature. In drama we can see the full range of emotions : it can be love, jealousy, hatred, fear, etc. The best drama books are full of dialogue. This type of drama is one of the oldest forms of storytelling and has existed almost since the beginning of humanity. Drama genre - these are events that involve a lot of people. People most often suffer in this genre, because they are selfish. People always think to themselves first, they want have a benefit.The Little Clay Cart by Sudraka (summer beach reads .txt) 📖
- Author: Sudraka
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Kumbhīlaka. [Takes it and bows. Gleefully.] I'll tell my mistress.
[Exit.
Maitreya. Do you see why she comes in a storm like this?
Chārudatta. I do not quite understand, my friend.
Maitreya. I know. She has an idea that the pearl necklace is cheap, and the golden casket expensive. She isn't satisfied, and she has come to look for something more.
Chārudatta. [Aside.] She shall not depart unsatisfied.
[Then enter the love-lorn Vasantasenā, in a splendid garment, fit for a woman who goes to meet her lover, a maid with an umbrella, and the courtier.]
Courtier. [Referring to Vasantasenā.]
Loveliest arrow of god Kāma's bow,[64]
The sweetest blossom on love's magic tree.
In passion's hour she still loves modesty;
In her, good wives their dearest sorrow know.
When on love's stage appears the passing show,
A host of wanderers shall bend them low.
Glad to be slaves in such captivity.12
[82.94. S.
See, Vasantasenā, see!
Like a maiden's heart, that distant lover seeks:
The peacocks startle, when the thunder booms,
And fan the heaven with all their jeweled plumes.13
And again:
To drink the falling drops the frogs are fain;
Full-throated peacocks love's shrill passion show,
And nīpa flowers like brilliant candles glow;
Unfaithful clouds obscure the hostage moon,
Like knaves, unworthy of so dear a boon;
Like some poor maid of better breeding bare,
The impatient lightning rests not anywhere.14
Vasantasenā.[65] Sir, what you say is most true. For
Her thunders fain would check and hinder me:
"Fond fool! with him I love thou shalt not stay,
'T is I, 't is I, he loves," she seems to say,
"Nor from my swelling bosom shall he flee."15
Courtier. Yes, yes. That is right. Scold the night.
Vasantasenā. And yet, sir, why scold one who is so ignorant of woman's nature! For you must remember:
May flash the lightning from the sky above;
That woman little recks of heat or cold,
Who journeys to her love.16
Courtier. But see, Vasantasenā! Another cloud,
A flood of arrows in his rushing streams,
His drum, the roaring thunder's mighty blare,
His banner, living lightning's awful gleams—
'Mid beams that to the moon allegiance owe,
Like a hero-king within the hostile hold
Of his unwarlike foe.17
P. 142.9]
Vasantasenā. True, true. And more than this:
Fall like a cruel dart—
With streaks of lightning and with white birds strewn—
To wound my wretched heart.
But, oh, why should the heron, bird of doom,
With that perfidious sound[66]
Of "Rain! Rain! Rain!"—grim summons to the tomb
For her who spends her lonely hours in gloom—
Strew salt upon the wound?18
Courtier. Very true, Vasantasenā. And yet again:
Of some fierce elephant to service bred;
The lightning like a waving streamer flies,
And white cranes serve to deck his mighty head.19
Vasantasenā. But look, sir, look!
Of heaven hide from our sight;
Rain-smitten homes of ants decay and fall
Like beasts that arrows smite;
Like golden lamps within a lordly hall
Wander the lightnings bright;
As when men steal the wife of some base thrall,
Clouds rob the moon of light.20
Courtier. See, Vasantasenā, see!
Like charging elephants dash by;
At Indra's bidding, pour their streams,
Until with silver cords it seems
That earth is linked with sky.21
[84.14. S.
And look yonder!
The winds deny them ease;
They fly on lightning wings and little lack
Of seeming troubled seas.
Upon whose bosom greenest grasses nod,
Seems pierced with pearls, each pearl an arrowy rod.22
Vasantasenā. And here is yet another cloud.
Implores it to draw nigh;
And ardent cranes on high
Embrace it lovingly.
The lotus-sweeter sky;
The darkest colors lie
On heaven clingingly.23
Courtier. True. For see!
A thousand blooming when the day is bright,
Nor close nor ope their eyes to heaven's sight;
There is no night nor day.
Is only for a single instant bright,
When momentary lightning gives us sight;
Else is it dark alway.
Within the house of rain where naught is bright,
Where hosts of swollen clouds seem to our sight
One covering veil of gray.24
P. 143.20]
Vasantasenā. True. And see!
To men of evil heart;
Like lonely-parted wives, the heaven
Sees all her charms depart.
And, molten in the cruel heat
Of Indra's bolt, it seems
As if the sky fell at our feet
In liquid, flowing streams.25
And yet again:
Send forth their floods of rain, and thunder all;
Assuming postures strange and manifold,
Like men but newly blest with wealth untold.26
Courtier. True.
Its laughter is the cry of myriad cranes;
Its voice, the bolts that whistle through the air;
Its dance, that bow whose arrows are the rains.
It staggers at the winds, and seems to smoke
With clouds, which form its black and snaky cloak.27
Vasantasenā. O shameless, shameless sky!
To him I love draw nigh.
Why do thy thunders frighten me and pain?
Why am I seized upon by hands of rain?28
O Indra, mighty Indra!
That now thy clouds like mighty lions roar?
Ah no! Thou shouldst not send thy streaming rain,
To fill my journey to my love with pain.29
[83.23. S.
Remember:
Thou knowest lover's pain.
As thou didst suffer then, now suffer I;
O cruel, cease thy rain.30
And yet:
Forth from thy sky above;
The woman canst thou not delay nor hold
Who journeys to her love.31
But oh, thou maiden lightning! didst thou never
Know pains that maidens know?32
Courtier. But mistress, do not scold the lightning. She is your friend,
Of great Airāvata;[67] upon the crest
Of rocky hills this banner all ablaze;
This lamp in Indra's palace; but most blest
As telling where your most beloved stays.33
Vasantasenā. And here, sir, is his house.
Courtier. You know all the arts, and need no instruction now. Yet love bids me prattle. When you enter here, you must not show yourself too angry.
Or no! except for anger hot,
There is no love.
Be kind! and make him kind again—
The man you love.34
P. 145.17]
So much for that. Who is there? Let Chārudatta know, that
Fragrant with nīpa and kadamba flower,
She comes to see her lover, very wet.
With dripping locks, but pleased and loving yet.
Though lightning and though thunder terrifies,
She comes to see you; 't is for you she sighs.
The mud still soils the anklets on her feet,
But in a moment she will have them sweet.35
Chārudatta. [Listening.] My friend, pray discover what this means.
Maitreya. Yes, sir. [He approaches Vasantasenā. Respectfully.] Heaven bless you!
Vasantasenā. I salute you, sir. I am very glad to see you. [To the courtier.] Sir, the maid with the umbrella is at your service.
Courtier. [Aside.] A very clever way to get rid of me. [Aloud.] Thank you. And mistress Vasantasenā,
Are in your face;
False playground of the lustful god,
Such is your face;
The wench's stock in trade, in fine,
Epitome of joys divine,
I mean, your face—
For sale! the price is courtesy.
I trust you'll find a man to buy
Your face.[Exit.] 36
Vasantasenā. Good Maitreya, where is your gambler?
Maitreya. [Aside.] "Gambler"? Ah, she's paying a compliment to my friend. [Aloud.] Madam, here he is in the dry orchard.
Vasantasenā. But sir, what do you call a dry orchard?
Maitreya. Madam, it's a place where there's nothing to eat or drink, [Vasantasenā smiles.] Pray enter, madam.
Vasantasenā. [Aside to her maid.] What shall I say when I enter?
[87.17. S.
Maid. "Gambler, what luck this evening?"
Vasantasenā. Shall I dare to say it?
Maid. When the time comes, it will say itself.
Maitreya. Enter, madam.
Vasantasenā. [Enters, approaches Chārudatta, and strikes him with the flowers which she holds.] Well, gambler, what luck this evening?
Chārudatta. [Discovers her.] Ah, Vasantasenā is here. [He rises joyfully.] Oh, my belovèd,
My nights from sighs are never free;
This evening cannot else than sever—
In bringing you—my grief and me.37
You are very, very welcome. Here is a seat. Pray be seated.
Maitreya. Here is a seat. Be seated, madam. [Vasantasenā sits, then the others.]
Chārudatta. But see, my friend,
And one sweet breast
Anointed is, like a prince who wears the crown,
With ointment blest.38
My friend, Vasantasenā's garments are wet. Let other, and most beautiful, garments be brought.
Maitreya. Yes, sir.
Maid. Good Maitreya, do you stay here. I will wait upon my mistress. [She does so.]
Maitreya. [Aside to Chārudatta.] My friend, I'd just like to ask the lady a question.
Chārudatta. Then do so.
Maitreya. [Aloud.] Madam, what made you come here, when it is so stormy and dark that you can't see the moon?
Maid. Mistress, the Brahman is very plain-spoken.
P. 148.17]
Vasantasenā. You might better call him clever.
Maid. My mistress came to ask how much that pearl necklace is worth.
Maitreya. [Aside to Chārudatta.] There! I told you so. She thinks the pearl necklace is cheap, and the golden casket is expensive. She isn't satisfied. She has come to look for something more.
Maid. For my mistress imagined that it was her own, and gambled it away. And nobody knows where the
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