-29_Prince of Edur Act-1 Sc-2.htm

The women’s apartments in the palace at Edur.
Comol Cumary, Coomood Cumary.

COMOL CUMARY

Tomorrow, Coomood, is the feast of May.

COOMOOD CUMARY

Sweetheart, I wish it were the feast of Will.
I know what I would will for you.

COMOL COOMARY

What, Coomood ?

COOMOOD CUMARY

A better husband than your father’ll give you.

COMOL CUMARY

You mean the Scythian ? I will not believe
That it can happen. My father’s heart is royal;

The blood that throbs through it he drew from veins
Of Rajpoot mothers.

COOMOOD CUMARY

But the brain’s too politic.
A merchant’s mind into his princely skull
Slipped in by some mischance, and it will sell you
In spite of all the royal heart can say.

COMOL CUMARY

He is our father, therefore blame him not.

COOMOOD CUMARY

I blame his brain, not him. Sweetheart, remember
Whomever you may marry I shall claim
Half of your husband.

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COMOL CUMARY

If’t be the Scythian, you may have
The whole uncouth barbarian with Cashmere
In the bad bargain.

COOMOOD CUMARY  

We will not let him have you.
We’ll find a mantra that shall call Urjoon
From Eden’s groves to wed you; great Dushyanta
Shall leave Shacoontala for these wide eyes
Which you have stolen from the antelope
To gaze men’s hearts out of their bodies with,
You lovely sorceress; or we’ll have Udaian
To ravish you into his rushing car,
Edur’s Vasavadatta. We’ll bring crowding
The heroes of romance out of the past
For you to choose from, sweet, and not a Scythian
In all their splendid ranks.

COMOL CUMARY

But my poor Coomood,
Your hero of romance will never look at you,
Finding my antelope eyes so beautiful.
What will you do then ?

COOMOOD CUMARY

I will marry him
By sleight of hand and never let him know.
For when the nuptial fire is lit and when
The nuptial bond is tied, I’ll slip my raiment’s hem
Into the knot that weds your marriage robes
And take the seven paces with you both
Weaving my life into one piece with yours .
For ever.

Enter Nirmol Cumary.

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NIRMOL CUMARY

News, princess, news! What will you give me for a sackful of news?

COMOL CUMARY

Two switches and a birchrod. A backful for your sackful!

NIRMOL CUMARY

I will empty my sack first, if only to shame you for your base ingratitude. To begin with what will please you best. Prince Toraman is arrived. I hear he is coming to see and approve of you before he makes the venture; it is the Scythian custom. 

COMOL CUMARY

He shall not have his Scythian custom. In India it is we girls who have the right of choice.

NIRMOL CUMARY

He will not listen. These Scythians stick to their customs as if it were their skin; they will even wear their sheepskins in mid-summer in Agra.

COMOL CUMARY

Then, Nirmol, we will show you to him for the Princess Comol Cumary and marry you off into the mountains. Would you not love to be the Queen of Cashmere ?

NIRMOL CUMARY

I would not greatly mind. They say he is big as a Polar bear and has the sweetest little pugnose and cheeks like two fat pouches. They say too he carries a knout in his hand with which he will touch up the bride during the ceremony as a promise of what she may expect hereafter; it is the Scythian custom. Oh, I envy you, Princess.

COMOL CUMARY

Nirmol, in sober earnest I will beat you.

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NIRMOL CUMARY

Strike but hear! For I have still news in my sack. You must gather your traps; we are to start for Dongurh in an hour. What, have I made your eyes smile at last?

COMOL CUMARY

To Dongurh! Truth, Nirmol.

NIRMOL CUMARY

Beat me in earnest, if it is not. Visaldeo himself told me.

COMOL CUMARY

To Dongurh! To the woods! It is three years

Since I was there. I wonder whether now

The woodland flowers into a sudden blush

Crimsoning at the sweet approach of Spring

As once it did against that mooned white

Of myriad blossoms. We shall feel again,

Coomood, the mountain breezes kiss our cheeks
Standing on treeless ridges and behold
The valleys wind unnoticeably below
In threads of green.

COOMOOD CUMARY

It is the feast of May.
Shall we not dance upon the wind-blown peaks
And put the peacock’s feather in our hair
And think we are in Brindabon the green?

NIRMOL CUMARY

With a snubnosed Scythian Krishna to lead the dance. But they say Krishna was neither Scythian nor Rajpoot but a Bheel. Well, there is another Krishna of that breed out who will make eighth-century Rookminnies of you if you dance too far into the forest, sweethearts.

COOMOOD CUMARY

You mean this boy-captain of robbers who makes such a noise in

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our little world? Bappa they call him, do they not?

NIRMOL CUMARY

‘Tis some such congregation of consonants. Now, which sort of husband would the most modern taste approve ? — a coal-black sturdy young Bheel, his face as rugged as Rajputana, or a red and white snubnosed Scythian with two prosperous purses for his cheeks. There’s a problem in aesthetics for you, Coomood. 

COMOL CUMARY

A barbarous emperor or a hillside thief
Are equals in a Rajpoot maiden’s eyes.
Yon mountain-peak or some base valley clod,
Tis one to the heaven-sailing star above
That scorns their lowness.

NIRMOL CUMARY

Yes, but housed with the emperor the dishonour is lapped in cloth of gold; on the thief’s hillside it is black, naked and rough, its primitive and savage reality. To most women the difference would be great.

COMOL CUMARY

Not to me. I wonder they suffer this mountain springald to presume so long.

NIRMOL CUMARY

Why, they sent out a captain lately to catch him, but he came back a head shorter than he went. But how do you fancy my news, sweethearts?

COMOL CUMARY

What, is your sack empty?

NIRMOL CUMARY

Your kingly father was the last to stalk out of it. I expect him here to finish my story.

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Enter Rana Curran, Menadevi and Visaldeo.

CURRAN

Maid Comol, are you ready yet for Dongurh ?

COMOL CUMARY

I heard of it this moment, sir.

CURRAN

Make ready.
Prince Toraman arrives. You blush, my lily?

MENADEVI

There is a maiden’s blush of bashfulness,

But there’s her blush of shame too when her cheeks

Offended scorn a suitor far too base

Should bring such noble blood to flush their whiteness.

CURRAN

Maid Comol, which was yours ?

COMOL CUMARY

I would learn that,
Father, from your high sovereign will. I am not
The mistress of my blushes.

CURRAN

Keep them for him,
Comol, for whom their sweetness was created.
Hearken, my little one, you are marked out
To reign an empress; ’tis the stars decree it
That in their calm irrevocable round
Weave all our fates. Then shrink not if thou hearest
The noise of battle round thy palanquin
Filling the hills, nor fear its rude event,
But veil thy cheeks in scarlet to receive
Thy warlike husband.

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COMOL CUMARY

Father!

CURRAN

It is so.
Thou journeyest not to Dongurh but thy nuptials.

COMOL CUMARY

With Toraman ?

CURRAN

With one whose lofty doom
Is empire. Keep this in thy joyous bosom
Throbbing in a sweet secrecy. Farewell.
When we foregather next, I hope to greet
My little empress.

Exit.

MENADEVI

Comol, what said he to thee?

COMOL CUMARY

What I unwillingly have heard. Mother,
Must I be mated to a barbarous stock?

MENADEVI

No, child. When you shall hear the trumpet’s din
Or clash of blades, think not ’tis Toraman,
But your dear mother’s care to save her child
From shameful mating. Little sweetheart, go.
When I shall meet you next, you’ll shine, a flower
Upon the proudest crest in Rajasthan,
No Scythian’s portion. Visaldeo, prepare
Her going quickly.

Exit.

COMOL CUMARY

What plots surround me ? Nirmol,  

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Give me my sword with me. I’ll have a friend
To help me, should the world go wrong.

Our self,

VISALDEO

Lady, is our best helper.

COMOL CUMARY

I believe it.
Which path’s resolved on ?

VISALDEO

‘Tis the valley road
That clings to the deep bases of the hills.

COMOL CUMARY

‘Tis not the shortest.

VISALDEO

The easiest, — to Cashmere.

COMOL CUMARY

The other’s safer then for Dongurh ?

VISALDEO

At least
‘Tis green and beautiful, and love may walk there
Unhindered.

Exit.

COMOL CUMARY

Thou seemst to be my friend,
But I’ll believe myself and no one else
Except my sword whose sharpness I can trust
Not to betray me. Come, girls, make we ready
For this planned fateful journey.

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COOMOOD CUMARY  

Let them keep
Our palanquins together. One fate for both,
Sweetheart.

COMOL CUMARY

If we must marry Toraman,
Coomood, it shall be in that shadowy country.

NIRMOL CUMARY

Where, I hope, justice will have set right the balance between his nose and his cheeks. Girls, we are the prizes of this handicap and I am impatient to know which jockey wins. 

Exeunt.

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