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The Prince of Mathura
A JAMEDE, Prince of Mathura, a fugitive in the mountains.I NDRADYUMNA, his friend and comrade.A TRY, King of Mathura, by the help of the Scythians.T ORAMAN, Prince of Cashmere, son of the Scythian overlord of the North-West.C ANACA, a Brahmin, his court jester.H OOSHKA, captain of the Scythian bodyguard.M AYOOR, Atry’s general and minister.I NDRANY, Queen of Mathura.U RMILA, Princess of Mathura, daughter of Atry and Indrany.L ILA, daughter of Hooshka.
Act I
Mathura. A room in the Palace. Atry, Indrany.
A TRYHowever hard it be, however gross The undisguised compulsion, none can stay Compulsion by impracticable revolt, Indrany. Deeper, viler the disgrace If by rebellion we invite constraint Naked, contemptuous, to a slave subdued. The reed that bows to the insistent wind Is wiser than the trunk which the cyclone Indignantly uproots. To force we yield, But to a force disguised in courtly forms. That’s better than to yield beneath the scourge.
INDRANY There’s a defeat more noble, not to yield, Even though we break. And break, I know, we must, But to live fouled for ever, vilely robed In a soiled purple, marked out to all the world For laughter by the puppet’s tinsel crown, That is disgrace indeed.
ATRY We hold this realm Because the northern Scythian helps our sword.
Page – 931 I NDRANYBy princely compromise, alliance high, Not yet by purchase or a social stain.
ATRY Our child will be an empress.
INDRANY And outcaste.
ATRY There have been many nuptials mixed like these, Of which world-famous emperors were born.
INDRANY Yes, but we took, not gave, were lords, not slaves. As ransom of his fate the conquered Greek To Indian Chandragupta gave his child, Knowing a son by her could never rule.
ATRY There is no bar. The Scythian weds with all And makes impartial Time the arbiter Whether a native or a foreign womb Shall be the shelterer of his empire’s heir.
INDRANY This honour’s purchased at too vile a cost.
ATRY There is no help. If we deny our girl, He’ll have her violently, make her his slave And not his wife.
INDRANY Do this then, seem to yield, But send her to your fortress on the hills,
Page – 932 Whence let one take her with a show of force, Whoever’s noblest now of Aryan lords In Magadha, Avanty or the South, Fit mate for Atry’s stock. Twixt him be strife And the Cashmerian, we escape his wrath.
ATRY It shall be so. I’ll choose a trusty man Who shall to Magadha before the morn. Meanwhile prepare your daughter for the hills. Indrany goes out joyfully. It is not good. The man will learn the trick, A fierce barbarian, rapid as the storm, Violent, vindictive, stamping on the world Like a swift warhorse, neighing to the winds With nostrils wide for any scent of war, For men to kill, lands to lay desolate, Haughty and keen amid his violence With the king’s eye that reads the minds of men, — Such is the man she counsels me to tempt By palpable evasion. I will send Urmila to my fortress on the hills. But he, not Magadha, shall take her forth By secret nuptials. He is honourable Though violent, a statesman though too proud. The prejudices of our race and day Must yield to more commanding thoughts and views That suit the changing times. Custom is mutable, Only the breach of it is dangerous If too impetuously we innovate. It’s best To circumvent opinion, not provoke. Who’s there? Call Mayoor! The King’s first task is to preserve his realm, Means honourable or dishonourable Are only means to use impartially, The most effective first. Mayoor enters.
Page – 933 Mayoor, you know The motion made by the Cashmerian’s son To wed my daughter.
MAYOOR We have spoken of it Already.
ATRY You are still of the same mind? You think my subjects will revolt?
MAYOOR It’s sure.
ATRY The Scythian sword can keep them hushed and still.
MAYOOR And you its slave and pensioner, impotent.
ATRY Then do it thus. The thing is secret still. Let it remain so. Let Prince Toraman Wed Urmila in secret in the hills As if herself had yielded to his suit, Not my consent. Against whom then, Mayoor, Shall Mathura revolt?
MAYOOR It may be done. But will the Scythian’s pride assent, or if The bond is secret, will he own the bond?
ATRY He shall, he must. To break by any means The bar of pride that lowers him beneath
Page – 934 The lowest of his Aryan tributaries, He will consent to much. And for the bond He shall engage his honour, then possess. Yourself go to him, Mayoor, where he’s camped. Persuade him. Let an escort start at once With Urmila to Roondhra in the hills. I trust you, Mayoor, for entire success. My crown, my honour are upon this cast.
MAYOOR Your crown is safe with me; your honour, King, I’ll save.
ATRY Always few words were yours, Mayoor, But each one solid gold. He goes out. MAYOOR To cheat you’s best Of the dishonour to which you aspire And for the crown, it’s safer in my hands Than Toraman’s, the Scythian giant, bold, Subtle and violent, who spreads his toils Over all India, helping force with guile And guile with force. Enter Mekhala. MEKHALA He is alone. Hear you, Mayoor!
MAYOOR It’s from the queen?
MEKHALA Read it and see.
Page – 935 MAYOOR Tell her my word is pledged and Urmila Saved from the Scythian wedlock.
MEKHALA And that means You’ll do it?
MAYOOR She shall not wed Toraman. Mekhala goes out. This is another coil. The King, it seems, Deceives his people and deceives his queen. She trusts him not, nor they. A lying King Tortuous and serpentine in policy, Loses as much by the distrust he breeds As all his shufflings gain. I’ll write to Magadha In other terms than Queen Indrany dreams. I will send out my messengers at once. One first to Ajamede, the lion dispossessed, Where in the hills of Roondhra now he lairs. Another to the mighty Magadhan Who gathers up his strength to free the land From the barbarian’s tread. Myself shall go To Toraman and meet the Scythian will. The end shall be as God long since decreed.
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