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Collected Plays and Short Stories

Part Two

Prince of Edur

Persons of the Drama

Act One

Scene I

Scene II

Scene III

Scene IV

Scene V

Act Two

Scene I

Scene II

Scene III

Scene IV

Scene V

Scene VI

Act Three

Scene I

Persons of the Drama

Rana Curran, Prince of Edur, of the Rahtore clan.

Visaldeo, a Brahmin, his minister; formerly in the service of the Gehelote1 Prince of Edur.

Haripal, a Rajpoot noble, General of Edur; formerly in the service of the Gehelote2 Prince.

Bappa, son of the late Gehelote3 Prince of Edur, in refuge among the Bheels.

Prithuraj, young Rajpoot refugees, companions of Bappa.

Kodal, a young Bheel, foster brother and lieutenant of Bappa.

Toraman, Prince of Cashmere.

Canaca, the Kingís jester of Cashmere.4

Pratap, Rao of Ichalgurh, a Chouhan noble.

Ruttan, his brother.

A Captain of Rajpoot Lances.

Menadevi, wife of Curran; a Chouhan princess, sister of the King of Ajmere.

Comol Cumary, daughter of Rana Curran and Menadevi.

Coomood Cumary, daughter of Rana Curran by a concubine.

Nirmol Cumary, daughter of Haripal, friend of Comol Cumary.

Ishany, a Rajpoot maiden, in attendance on Comol Cumary.

Act One

The palace in Edur. The forests about Dongurh.

Scene I

The palace in Edur.
Rana Curran, Visaldeo.


He is at Delsa5 then?


So he has written.


Send out a troop for escort, yielding him

Such honour6 as his mighty birth demands.

Let him be lodged for what he is, a Prince

Among the mightiest.


You have chosen then?

Youíll give your daughter, King, to this Cashmerian?


My brother from Ajmere writes to forbid me,

Because heís Scythian, therefore barbarous.

A Scythian? He is Cashmereís mighty lord

Who stretches out from those proud Himalayan hills

His giant arms to embrace the North.


But still

A Scythian.


Whom many Aryan monarchs crouch to appease

When he but shakes his warlike lance. A soldier

And conqueror ó what has the earth more noble?

And he is of the great Cushanian stock

That for these centuries bestride the hills

Against all comers. World-renowned Asoca

Who dominated half our kingly East,

Sprang from a mongrel root.


Rana, youíll wed

Your daughter to Prince Toraman.


Iím troubled

By Ajmereís strong persistence. He controls

Our Rajpoot world and it were madly done

To offend him.


Thatís soon avoided. Send your daughter out

To your strong fort among the wooded hills,

Dongurh; there while she walks among the trees,

Let the Cashmerian snatch her to his saddle

In the old princely way. You have your will

And the rash Chouhan has his answer.



You are a counsellor! Call the queen hither;

Iíll speak to her.

Exit Visaldeo.

O excellently counselled!

What is it but a daughter? One mere girl

And in exchange an emperor for my ally.

It must be done.

Enter Menadevi and Visaldeo.


You sent for me, my lord!


How many summers might our daughter count,



Sixteen, my lord.


She flowers apace

And like a rose in bloom expects the breeze

With blushing petals. We can delay no longer

Her nuptial rites.


The Rao of Ichalgurh

Desires her. Heís a warrior and a Chouhan.


A petty baron! O my dearest lady,

Rate not your child so low. Her rumoured charm

Has brought an emperor posting from the north

To woo her.


Give me the noble Rajpoot blood,

I ask no more.


The son of great Cashmere

Journeys to Edur for her.


Your royal will

Rules her and me. And yet, my lord, a child

Of Rajpoot princes might be better mated;

So much Iíll say.


You are your brotherís sister.

He says he will not have a Scythian wed her.


He cherishes the lofty Chouhan pride.

You know, my lord, we hold a Rajpoot soldier

Without estate or purse deserves a queen

More than a crowned barbarian.


You are all

As narrow as the glen7 where you were born

And live immured. No arrogance can match

The penniless pride of mountaineers who never

Have seen the various world beyond their hills.

Your petty baron who controls three rocks

For all his heritage, exalts himself

Oíer monarchs in whose wide domains his holdingís

An ant-hill, and prefers his petty line

To their high dynasties; ó as if a mountain tarn

Should think itself more noble than the sea

To which so many giant floods converge.


Our tarns are pure at least; if small, they hold

Sweet water only; but your seas are brackish.


Well, well; tomorrow send your little princess

To Dongurh, there to dwell till we decide

If great Cashmere shall have her. Visaldeo,

Give ten good lances for her escort.


Only ten!

It is not safe.


Rana, the queen is right.

The Bheels are out among the hills; they have

A new and daring leader and beset

All wayside wealth with swarms of humming arrows.


The lord of Edur should not fear such rude

And paltry caterans. When they see our banner

Advancing oíer the rocks, they will avoid

Its peril. Or if thereís danger, take the road

That skirts the hills. Ten lances, Visaldeo!



My blood shall never mingle with the Scythian.

I am a Chouhan first and next your wife,

Edur. What means this move to Dongurh, Visaldeo?

Visaldeo (as if to himself)

Ten lances at her side! It were quite easy

To take her from them, even for a Cashmerian.


I understand. The whole of Rajasthan

Would cry out upon Edur, were this marriage

Planned openly to soil their ancient purity.

The means to check this shame?


Lady, I am

The Ranaís faithful servant.


So remain.

Iíll send a horse to Ichalgurh this hour.

There may be swifter snatchers than the Scythian.



Or swifter even than any in Ichalgurh.

I too have tidings to send hastily.


Scene II

The womenís apartments in the palace at Edur.
Comol Cumary, Coomood Cumary.

Comol Cumary8

Tomorrow, Coomood, is the feast of May.

Coomood Cumary9

Sweetheart, I wish it were the feast of Will.

I know what I would will for you.

Comol Cumary

What, Coomood?

Coomood Cumary

A better husband than your fatheríll give you.

Comol Cumary

You mean the Scythian? I will not believe

That it can happen. My fatherís heart is royal;

The blood that throbs through it he drew from veins

Of Rajpoot mothers.

Coomood Cumary

But the brainís too politic.

A merchantís 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.

Comol Cumary

Ifít 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.

Weíll find a mantra that shall call Urjoon

From Edenís groves to wed you; great Dushyanta

Shall leave Shacoontala for these wide eyes

Which you have stolen from the antelope

To gaze menís hearts out of their bodies with,

You lovely sorceress; or weíll have Udaian

To ravish you into his rushing car,

Edurís Vasavadatta10. Weíll 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, Iíll slip my raimentís 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.

Nirmol Cumary11

News, princess12, 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 midsummer 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.

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 moonèd 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 peacockís feather in our hair

And think we are in Brindabon13 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 our little world? Bappa they call him, do they not?

Nirmol Cumary

íTis some such congregation of consonants. Now, which sort of husband would the most modern taste approve? ó a coal-black sturdy young Bheel, his face as rugged as Rajputana14, or a red and white snubnosed Scythian with two prosperous purses for his cheeks. Thereís a problem in aesthetics for you, Coomood.

Comol Cumary

A barbarous emperor or a hillside thief

Are equals in a Rajpoot maidenís eyes.

Yon mountain-peak or some base valley clod,

íTis 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 thiefís 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.

Enter Rana Curran, Menadevi and Visaldeo.


Maid Comol, are you ready yet for Dongurh?

Comol Cumary

I heard of it this moment, sir.


Make ready.

Prince Toraman arrives. You blush, my lily?


There is a maidenís blush of bashfulness,

But thereís her blush of shame too when her cheeks

Offended scorn a suitor far too base

Should bring such noble blood to flush their whiteness.


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.


Keep them for him,

Comol, for whom their sweetness was created.

Hearken, my little one, you are marked out

To reign an empress; ítis 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.

Comol Cumary



It is so.

Thou journeyest not to Dongurh but thy nuptials.

Comol Cumary

With Toraman?


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.



Comol, what said he to thee?

Comol Cumary

What I unwillingly have heard. Mother,

Must I be mated to a barbarous stock?


No, child. When you shall hear the trumpetís din

Or clash of blades, think not ítis Toraman,

But your dear motherís care to save her child

From shameful mating. Little sweetheart, go.

When I shall meet you next, youíll shine, a flower

Upon the proudest crest in Rajasthan,

No Scythianís portion. Visaldeo, prepare

Her going quickly.


Comol Cumary

What plots surround me? Nirmol,

Give me my sword with me. Iíll have a friend

To help me, should the world go wrong.


Our self,

Lady, is our best helper.

Comol Cumary

I believe it.

Which pathís resolved on?


íTis the valley road

That clings to the deep bases of the hills.

Comol Cumary

íTis not the shortest.


The easiest ó to Cashmere.

Comol Cumary

The otherís safer then for Dongurh?


At least

íTis green and beautiful, and love may walk there



Comol Cumary

Thou seemst to be my friend,

But Iíll 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.

Coomood Cumary

Let them keep

Our palanquins together. One fate for both,


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.


Scene III

The forest near Dongurh.
Bappa, Sungram, Prithuraj.


It is the secret friend from whom in childhood

I learned to wing my mounting thoughts aloft

High as an eagleís flight. I know the hand,

Though yet his name is hid from me.


Letís hear

The very wording.


“To the Sunís child, from Edur.

Comol Cumary, Edurís princess, goes

With her fair sister and a knot of lances

To Dongurh. Bappa, young lion of the hills,

Be as the lion in thy ranging; prey

Upon earthís mightiest, think her princesses

Meant only for thy spoil and serving-girls,

Her kings thy subjects and her lands thy prey.

Dare greatly and thou shalt be great; despise

Apparent death and from his lifted hand

Of menace pluck thy royal destinies

By warlike violence. Thus thy fathers did

From whose great blood thou springest, child of Kings.

Thy friend in Edur.”


Writes he that? The child of Kings!

He never spoke so plainly of your birth

Till now.


A kindling hint to fire our blood!

Two princesses and only a knot of swords

For escort? The gods themselves arrange this for us.


Bappa, you are resolved to court this peril?


Doubt you? Think how ítwill help our treasury.

The palanquins alone must be a mint

Of money and the girlsí rich ornaments

Purchase half Rajasthan.


The immediate gainís

Princely, nor the mere capture perilous.

But afterwards the armèd wrath of Edur

Descends upon us in a thunder and whirlwind.

Are we yet strong enough to bear the shock?


Why, let it come. I shall rejoice to feel

The true and dangerous bite of war at last,

Not always play the mountain cateranís part,

To skulk among the hills and only assail

The weak and timid, or butcher distant force

With arrows. I long for open shocks of fight

And glorious odds and all the world for audience.


Sungram, I do not rashly take this step,

But with fixed policy. Unless we break

Edurís supreme contempt for our annoyance,

How can we bring him to the difficult hills?

So must we take the open where our Bheels

Will scatter from the massèd Rajpoot swords

Nor face their charging horsemen. But if we capture

Their princess, inconsiderate rage will hurl them

Into our very fastnesses to wear

Their strength out under our shafts. Then will I seize

At the right moment, they being few and weary,

Edur by force or guile and hold it fast

Though all the warlike world come up against me.


With Bheels?


I will invite all Rajpoot swords

That now are masterless and men exiled,

And desperate fortunes. So the iron hands

Join us and the adventurous hearts, to build

A modern seat of empire; minds like Sungram,

Wise to forecast and bold to execute,

Heroes like Prithuraj, who know not fear

Nor put a limit to their vaulting thoughts

Save death or unforgettable renown,

The Rajpootís choice. Are we not strong enough?

We have a thousand hardy Bheels, expert

In mountain warfare, swift unerring bowmen,

We have ourselves to lead them, each worth thousands,

Sheva Ekling above us and in our hands

Our destiny and our swords.


They are enough.

Enter Kodal.


Bappa, our scouts have come in. The prey is in the toils.


How many are they, Kodal?


Merely ten lances. The servants and women they have sent round by the lower road; the escort with four palanquins come up through the hills. They have run their heads into the noose. We will draw it tight, Bappa, and choke them.


Is their escape



Bappa, a hundred Bheels surround the pass

By which alone they can return. Myself

Have posted them.


Beside the waterfall

Surround them, Sungram. Kodal, let there be

No random shafts to imperil by mischance

Our lovely booty.


Trust me for that, Bappa. Weíll shoot through the twenty eyeballs of them and never even touch the white. Ten lances they are and ten arrows will stretch them flat; there shall be nothing left to be done but the burning. If I cannot do this, I am no Bheel, no Kodal and no foster-brother of Bappa.


Economise our strength. I will not lose

A single man over this easy capture.

Youíre captain, Sungram.

Exeunt Sungram and Kodal.

Prithuraj, my friend,

Today begins our steep ascent to greatness.


Scene IV

The forest near Dongurh. By the waterfall.

Enter Captain and soldiers escorting Comol Cumary, Coomood, Nirmol and Ishany in palanquins.

Ishany (from her palanquin)

Set down the palanquins. Captain, make void

This region; here the princess would repose

Beside the murmuring waterfall awhile

And breathe into her heart the winds of Dongurh.

Exit Captain with soldiers and palanquin-bearers. The girls leave their palanquins.

Comol Cumary

Coomood, this is the waterfall we loved

To lean by, singing to the lyre the deeds

Our fathers wrought or listening silently

The15 soft continuous roar. Beyond that bend

We shall see Dongurh ó Dongurh, our delight

Where we were children, Coomood.

Coomood Cumary

Comol, our treeís

All scarlet, as if splashed with crimson fire,

Just as of old.

Comol Cumary

O it is Spring, and this

Is Dongurh.


Girls, we must not linger long.

Our Scythian, missing us, may take the hills.

Nirmol Cumary

Purse-cheeks? Oh, he has lifted Mera the servant-girl to his saddle-bow by now and is garlanding her Queen of Cashmere. I wish I were there to be bridesmaid.

Comol Cumary

That was a sweet touch of thine, Nirmol. But the child deserves her promotion; she has served me willingly. A Scythian throne is no great wages for service to a Rajpoot princess.

Coomood Cumary

How the hill gives you back your laughter, repeating

Its sweetness with delight, as if it had a soul

To love you.

Comol Cumary

We have shaken them off prettily by turning away through the hills. Alas! my royal father will not greet his little empress this journey, nor my lady mother scent her blossom on a Rajpoot crest. They must even put up with their poor simple Comol Cumary just as she was ó (aside) and as she will be until her heart finds its mate.

Nirmol Cumary

It is a sin, I tell you, Comol; I am mad when I think of it. Why, I came out to be abducted; I did not come for a quiet stroll through the woodlands. But I have still hopes of our Bheel cateran, our tangle-locked Krishna of the hill-sides; surely he will not be so ungallant as to let such sweet booty pass through his kingdom ungathered.

Comol Cumary

I would gladly see this same stripling and talk to him face to face who sets his Bheel arrows against our Rajpoot swords. He should be a man at least, no Scythian Toraman.


The presumptuous savage! it will earn him a stake yet for his last session. Were I a man, I would burn these wasps from their nest and catch and crush them in my mailed gauntlet as they buzzed out into the open.

Shouts Outside

Bappa! Bappa! Ho Sheva Ekling!

Captain (shouting within)

Lances, lances, Rajpoots! Bearers, to the palanquins!

Comol Cumary


Nirmol Cumary (laughing)

Youíll have that talk with Bappa yet,


Coomood Cumary

Oh, let us flee! They swarm towards us.


Stand firm! Our gallant lances soon will prick

These bold hill-foxes to their lairs. Stand firm!

We should but fly into the mouth of danger.

Comol Cumary (climbing on to a rock)

You Gods! our Rajpoots all are overwhelmed

Before they used their weapons. What next, Ishany?

Shall we sit still to be made prisoners?


Get swiftly to your palanquin. The bearers

Run hither. Flee towards the valley road!

It may be that the swords of Ichalgurh

Range there already.

Comol Cumary

Shall I escape alone?


Ah, save the glory of Edur from disgrace

Of savage handling!

Enter the palanquin-bearers fleeing.

Halt! Take your princess, men,

And flee with her into the valley road.

1st Bearer

The funeral fire in the mouth of your princess! Every man save himself.

Exit with most of the bearers.

2nd Bearer

Halt, halt! We have eaten and shall we not pay for the salt? Yes, even with our blood. We four will take her, if we are not cut into pieces first. Into the palanquin, lady.

Nirmol Cumary

Quick, Comol! or are you longing for your palaver with Tangle-locks?

Comol enters the palanquin.

Coomood Cumary

What will become of us?

Nirmol Cumary

We shall become

Bheel housewives. After all, a Scythian throne

Was better.


We have our weapons to befriend us yet.

Coomood, look not so pale.

Nirmol Cumary

See, see, Ishany!

The Bheels are leaping down upon our rear.


Quick, bearers, bearers.

Nirmol Cumary

It is too late. Sheís taken.

Enter Kodal and Bheels.


Whoever wants an arrow through his skull, let him move his shanks. Women, you are my brother Bappaís prisoners; we have need of some Rajpoot slave-girls for his kitchen. Take them, my children, and tie them.


Stab any who comes; let not these lumps of dirt

Insult your Rajpoot bodies with their fingers.


Shut your mouth, Rajpootny, or I will skewer your tongue to your palate with an arrow. Knock their daggers out of their hands.

He lays his hand on Nirmolís wrist.

Enter Sungram.

Nirmol Cumary

Off, savage! I will have no tongue-skewerer for my husband.


Release her, Kodal. Lay not thy Bheel hand

Upon a Rajpoot virgin. Maiden of Edur,

Expect no outrage. We are men who keep

Some tincture of manners yet, though savage hills

Harbour us and our looks and deeds are rugged

As the wild land we dwell in.

Nirmol Cumary

I grant you that. If you are the master-jockey, the winners of this handicap are no such rank outsiders after all.


Because thou art a Rajpoot, must thou command me? To me, Bheels! Tie up these Rajpootnys16, hand and leg like so many chickens. Heed not Sungram.



(draws his sword)

Ishany (rapidly approaching the bearers)

Slip off unnoticed while they brawl; run, run!

O save the princess!

2nd Bearer

We will do our manís best. Silently, men, and swiftly.


I boggle not for your sword, Rajpoot. Taste my arrows.

Exeunt bearers with Comol in the

palanquin. Bappa and Prithuraj enter

from the other side.


Now, whatís the matter, Kodal?


Why, Bappa, these new servant-girls of yours will not come to heel; they talk proudly. Yet Sungram will not let me teach them manners, because, I think, they are his auntís cousins.


They shall be obedient, Kodal. Leave them to me.

Remember Sungramís your commander, brother.

What, you, a soldier, and break discipline!


I am your soldier, Bappa. Sungram, you shall have your Rajpootny. I am a soldier, Rajpoot, and know my duty.

Coomood Cumary

Is this the Bheel? the rough and uncouth outlaw?

He has a princely bearing. This is surely

A Rajpoot and of a high-seated blood.


Which of youís Edurís princess? Let her stand

Before me.


Who art thou that speakíst so proudly

As if a Rajpoot princess were thy slave,



Whoeíer I am, you are in my hands,

My spoil and captives. Speak, which is the princess?

Coomood Cumary

Out of thy grip and now almost in safety,

Chieftain, upon the valley road.



Thou hast betrayed thy sister by thy folly

And into vilest shame.

Coomood Cumary

At least Iíll share it.



Ay, so? these maidens are but three. Kodal,

Four palanquins were on the road, thou toldíst me.


Sungram, give thy sword a twist in my guts. While I wrangled with thee, the best shikar of all has skedaddled.


Nay, mend it ó intercept the fugitive.

Exit Kodal with Bheels.

The other too has fled? but sheís on foot.

Sungram and Prithuraj, lead these fair captives

Into their prison. I will go and seize

The runaways.


They are not for thee yet,

Hill-cateran, while I stand between.


O17 hereís

A Rajpoot spirit.


Foolish girl, canst thou

Oppose the storm-blast with a doveís white wings?

As he goes out, she strikes at him with a

dagger; he seizes her wrist and puts her by.

Exit Bappa.


Thou hast a brave but headstrong spirit, maiden.

It is no savages to whom your Fates

Are kind, but men of Rajpoot blood and nurture.

Have I your leave?

He lays his hand on her wrist.

Ishany (sullenly)

You take it in these hills

Before the asking, as it seems.

(throwing away her dagger)


Thou useless helper.


Very useless, maiden.

When help is needed, ask it of my sword.


You play the courteous brigand. I shall need

No help to cast myself out of the reach

Of villainsí courtesies.

Prithuraj (lifting her in his arms)

íTis not so easy.

Must I then teach you youíre a prisoner?

Come, be more patient. You shall yet be glad

Of the sweet violence today we do you.

He carries her out.


Must we follow in the same order?

Nirmol Cumary

By your leave, no. I turn eleven stone or thereabouts.


I will not easily believe it. Will you suffer me to test the measure?

Nirmol Cumary

I fear you would prove an unjust balance; so I will even walk, if you will help me over the rough places. It seems you were not Krishna after all?


Why, take me for brother Balaram then. Is not your name Revaty?

Nirmol Cumary

It is too early in the day for a proposal; positively I will not say either yes or no till the evening. On, Balaram! I follow.


Scene V

The forest near Dongurh.
Enter bearers with Comol Cumary in the palanquin.

2nd Bearer

Courage, brothers, courage! We are almost out of the wood.

Enter Kodal, leaping down from a thicket in front.


But it is too soon to hollo. Stop, you plain-frogs, or you shall gutturalize your last croak.

2nd Bearer

Put down the palanquin; we are taken. Great emperor of Bheels, be merciful.


Stand still, rogues. I must first haul the runaway Rajpootny out of her dog-box.

As he approaches the palanquin, the bearer

strikes him down suddenly and throws his bows18

and arrows down the hill-side.

2nd Bearer

Quick! Let us be off while heís stunned.

Enter Bappa and Coomood, followed by Bheels.


Your sister cannot overstep the pass,

Which is beset and ambushed. Ho, there, halt!

Put down the palanquin. Insensate fools,

Invite not death.

The Bheels crowd in and surround the bearers.

Isít Kodal? is he hurt?

Kodal (rising)

Only stunned, Bappa. The hillside was a trifle harder than my head. Plain-frog, thou didst that trick handsomely. Give me thy paw, fellow.


Take these men prisoners and keep them safely.

Remove your men; and, Kodal, guard the road

Barring all rescue.

Exit Kodal and Bheels with the bearers.

Princess, take your sister

Out of the palanquin.

Coomood Cumary

Comol, Comol.

Dear fugitive from fateís arrest youíre taken.

Come out.

Comol Cumary

How was it?

Coomood Cumary

I told him of your flight.

Youíll leave me all alone to wed a Bheel?

Youíll break our compact? I have dragged you back

To servitude.

Comol Cumary

Nay, let me see my captor then.

For if you smile, my Coomood, I must be

Out of misfortuneís reach.

(leaving the palanquin)

Stand back, sweet. Come,

Where is this mountain thief who wars with Kings

And lays his hands on Edurís princesses

As if his trunk were an immortal piece

And he unhangable?

Bappa (advancing)

I am the man,

Bappa, the outlaw.

Comol Cumary

This Bappa! this the Bheel?

They gaze at one another.


Why, Coomood, it was Krishna after all.

Monarch of caterans, I am Edurís princess,

Comol Cumary. Why didst thou desire me?


O who would not desire thee, glorious virgin?

Thou art the rose of Rajasthan and I

Will wear thee on my crest.

Comol Cumary

íTwas prophesied me.

But roses, King of thieves, have thorns, and see!

I have a sword.

Bappa (smiling)

Thinkst thou that pretty toy

Will save thee from me?

Comol Cumary

It will do its best.

And if you take me still, ítis at your peril.

I am a dangerous creature to possess.


I will embrace the peril as a bride

If in thy shape it dwell.

Comol Cumary

I swear I pity you.

You rush upon you know not what. Come now,

If ítis a gentle serving-girl you need,

Here is my sister, Coomood, who can cook

Divinely. Take her. Let me walk on to Dongurh.

You will regret it, youth.

Coomood Cumary

Believe her not,

íTis sheís a Droupadie; and who possesses her

Is fated to be Emperor of the West.


Nay, you are twin sweet roses on one stalk

And I will pluck you both, O flowers of Edur.

Comol Cumary

Why did thy men beset me, mountaineer?

What was thy hope?


At first ítwas policy

And some desire of thy imperial ransom.

But now Iíve seen thee, I will hold thee fast.

Thou art not ransomable.

Comol Cumary

You shall not have me, sir, till you have fought

And beaten me. You shall not get me cheaply.

I am a swashbuckler. Bheel, I can fight.


Marvel, thou mayst and with great ease be victor

If thou but use thy soft and shining eyes

To dazzle me out of all possibility

Of sound defence.

Comol Cumary

Come, measure swords, on guard!


Thou wilt persist then in this pretty folly?

Comol Cumary

Halt, halt! I will not fight except on terms.

Youíll yield yourself my prisoner, Bheel, and free

My maidens, when Iíve drubbed you handsomely?


If when Iíve conquered, you will utterly

Surrender your sweet self into my arms,

Princess of Edur.

Comol Cumary

Take me if you can.


Thus then I take you.

(disarms her)

Rose, where is thy thorn?

Now thou must yield indeed.

Comol Cumary

Foul play! foul play!

It was not fair to rob me of my sword.

Call you this fighting? Iíll not yield myself.


Thou hast no choice.

He seizes her.

Comol Cumary

I was not fairly won.

Avaunt! this is mere highway robbery.

I will not bear it.


Virgin, this is the moment

For which thy loveliness was born, alas.19

Comol Cumary (faintly)

What20 will you do with me?


Iíll carry thee,

A hungry lion, to my secret lair

Among the mighty hills, where none shall come

To save thee from me, O my glorious prey,

Bright antelope of Edur!

Coomood Cumary

Will you play

With the young lion, Comol, and chafe his mood?

Now you are borne down by his heavy mane

And lie beneath his huge and tawny chest,

Trembling and silent.


Princess ó

Coomood Cumary

May I walk on

To Dongurh?


No, thou mayst not. Follow me.

Hold fast my arm, nor, princess, fear to hang

Thy whole sleight21 weight on me up these abrupt

And breathless places, for the high ascent

Is steep and rough to our uncouth abodes.

Descentís for your small feet impossible,

Coomood, from your green prison on the heights.

There Spring shall wall you in with flowers and make

Her blossoming creepers chains for your bright limbs

Softly forbidding you, when youíld escape.

Coomood Cumary

Comol, tomorrow is the feast of May.



Act Two

The forest near Dongurh.

Scene I

In the forest near Dongurh.

Bappa, Sungram. The Captain and Rajput22 soldiers, guarded by Bheels.


Ponder it, captain. Sungram, see the bearers

Released, but let those cowards first be scourged

Who put their lives above their ladyís honour.

Give golden largess to the faithful four

And send them with a script. Let Edur know

That Bappa holds his cherished daughter fast

And frees her not save for a lakh of mohurs,

Her insufficient ransom. If it displease him,

Let him come here with all his fighting men

And take her from my grip. Word it to wound him

So that he shall come thundering up the hills

Incensed inexorably.

Exit Sungram.

Soldier, again,

íTis not my wont to slay my prisoners,

Who am a Rajpoot, and to pen you here

Eating your hearts away like prisoned lions

Were the worldís loss and to myself no profit.

Take then your choice and either follow me

Or to your Edur back return unharmed.


Thou art a noble enemy, young chieftain;

But change thy boon; for I have lost my charge

Ingloriously and now can only entreat

The use of my own sword to avenge my honour

On its betrayer. Living I go not back

To Edur.


Soldier, thou art too scrupulous.

The wariest captain need not think it shame

To be surprised among these mountains. If Edur

Receive you not, follow my fortunes, Rajpoot.

I am as noble as the prince you serve,

And he who waits on Bappaís fateful star

May be more fortunate than kings.



Save my old masterís blood I serve no other

Than noble Edur.

(suddenly with excitement)

What is that jewel, boy,

Upon thy sword-hilt? Where hadst thou that weapon?


What moves thee thus? It is my fatherís sword,

Though who my father was, Fate hides from me.

Captain (with emotion)

I take thy offer, prince. I am thy soldier,

And all these men shall live and die for thee.

A Soldier

What dost thou, captain?


I have never swerved

From the high path of Rajpoot honour. Trust me,



Thou wast our chief in war and always

We found thee valiant, proud and honourable.

Convince us that we may transfer unshamed

Our falchions only stained with foemenís blood,

And still weíll follow thee.


I will convince you

At a fit season.


Knowíst thou something, soldier,

Thatís hid from me?


Pardon my silence, chieftain.

All things have their own time to come to light.


I will expect my hour then and meanwhile

Think myself twice as great as yesterday

Whom your strong hands now serve. Come, friends, with me;

Resume your swords for yet more glorious use

In Bappaís service.


Scene II

The road through the valley to Dongurh.

Toraman, Canaca, Hooshka and Scythians.


I know not what impelled these mountain-boars

To worry Death with their blunt tusks. This insult

I will revenge in kind at first, then take

A bloody reckoning.


Fegh! it was a trick even beyond my wits. To put a servant-girl on the throne of Cashmere! All Asia would have been one grin had the jest prospered.


They take us for barbarians

And thought such gross imposture good enough

To puzzle Scythian brains. But Iíll so shame

The witty clowns, they shall hang down their waggish heads

While they are still allowed to live. Youíll wed

A princess of the Rajpoots, Canaca?


I would prefer a haunch of Rajpoot venison any day; they have fat juicy stags in their mountains.


I give thee Edurís daughter. While I ride

With half my lances to our mountains, thou

Shalt ruffle round as Scythian Toraman

And wed the princess.


Shall I indeed? Do you take me for a lettuce that you would have me sliced for a Rajpoot salad? Oh, Iíld love to be a prince if only to comfort myself with one full meal in a lifetime; but an empty plebeian paunch is a more comfortable possession than a princely belly full of Rajpoot lances.


Why should they at all

Discover thee, dull fool? None know me here.

The Rana and his men have not received me.

No doubt the arrogant princeling scorned to eat

As host and guest with me in Edur; even to dine

With us is thought a soil! Therefore ítwas fixed

In this rare plot that I should ride from Dilsa23

On a foolís errand. Well, it helps me now,

Though Iíll avenge it fearfully. íTis feasible.

None know us, you are richer-robed than I,

And whatís uncouth in you, they will put down

To Scythiaís utter barbarousness, whose princes

Are boors and boors unhuman. Oh, ítwill work.


Will it? Well, so long as I keep my belly unprodded, ítis a jest after my own heart.


And mine. These haughty Rajpoots think themselves

The only purity on earth; their girls

So excellent in Aryan chastity,

That without Rajpoot birth an emperorís wooing

Is held for insult. This they hoped to avenge

By foisting a baseborn light serving-wench

On the prince of all the North. How will they stare,

How gnash their teeth and go stark-mad with shame

When they discover their sweet cherished lily,

The pride of Rajasthan, they thought too noble

To lower herself to Cashmereís lofty throne,

Bedded with the court-jester of Cashmere,

Soiled by the embraces of a low buffoon

Who patters for a wage, her pride a jest,

Her purity a puddle and herself

The worldís sole laughing-stock.


Hem! íTwill be a jest for the centuries.


About it, then.

Feign to laugh off the insult put on you

And urge your suit. Bound by their trick that failed,

They must, though with great sullenness, consent;

And thatís desirable: the shame will taste

A thousand times more bitter afterwards.

Have her by force, if they are obstinate;

But have her. Soon, be sure, I will be back

With an avenging host and ring in Edur

With loud assaults till I have crucified

King, queen and princess on her smoking ruins.

Exit with a number of Scythians.


Well then, I am Prince Toraman of Cashmere; remember that, villains. Or why not Prince Toraman-Canaca or Prince Canaca-Toraman? it is rounder and more satisfying to the mouth. Yet simple Prince Toraman has a chastity of its own and all the magnificence of Cashmere marches after it. Ho, slave! What sounds are those approaching my majesty? Send scouts and reconnoitre. Prince Toraman, the imperial son of Cashmere! It is a part I shall play with credit; nature made me for it of sufficient proportions and gave me a paunch imperial.

Hooshka (approaching)

Prince Canaca-Toraman or Prince Toraman-Canaca or very simple Toraman, I hear tramp of men and the clang of armour. No doubt, the princess of Edur, thinking all safe by now, rides to Dongurh. Will you charge them and seize her?


To cover, thou incompetent captain, to cover. Hast thou learned war and knowest not the uses of ambush? We will hide, slave. See thou pokest not out that overlong nose of thine! Find thyself a branch big enough to cover it.


Humph! What signal shall we expect from your Majesty for the charge?


Prate not to me of signals! How lacking are thy dull soldier-wits in contrivance! If I jump down into the road and howl, you will all come jumping and howling after me; but if I run, you will catch hold of my tail and run too like the very devil. Nay, I have a rare notion of tactics. To cover, to cover!

They conceal themselves. Enter the Rao of

Ichalgurh, Ruttan and Rajpoots.


She has escaped me, or the Scythian has her.

The last were my dishonour.


Weíve held the road

Since dawn. The Scythian had the serving women.

The princess has escaped.


Iím glad of it.


Will you pursue it farther?


Ambition only

Engaged me once to woo her; now my honour

Is deeply pledged. The spur of chivalry

Suffers me not to yield a Rajpoot flower

To Scythian handling; nor could I refuse

A challenge to adventurous emprise

So fairly given. About, to Dongurh!



The place is strong, nor we equipped for sieges.


Iíll have her out even from that fortressed keeping

And set her in my crest at Ichalgurh

For gods to gaze at.

Canaca leaps down into the road brandishing a sword,

followed by Hooshka and his Scythians.


Ho Amitabha! Buddha for Cashmere!


The Scythians on us! Swords!


Put up your skewers! Quiver not, ye wretches; steady, steady your quaking kneecaps. Though I have cause for anger, yet am I merciful. Ye would have robbed me of some very pretty property, but ye are mountain-thieves by nature and nurture and know no better. Therefore peace. Sleep in thy scabbard, thou dreadful servant of the wrath of Toraman; await a fitter subject than these carcasses. Courage, Rajpoots, you shall not die.

Ichalgurh (smiling)

Who is your Mightiness?


I am the very formidable and valiant hero and Scythian, Toraman, prince of Cashmere. Nevertheless, tremble not. I am terrible to look at, but I have bowels; ó ay, a whole paunchful of them.


You sought the Princess?

What, she has slipped through your most valiant fingers?


As if she had greased herself with butter. But I am going to Dongurh straight away to demand her and dinner.


Together then. Weíre comrades in her loss;

Why not allies to win her?


Am I to be so easily bamboozled? Wilt thou insult my cranium? Thou wouldst use my valiant and invincible sword to win her, thinking to steal her from me afterwards when I am not looking.


Who would dare

Defraud the formidable Toraman,

The valiant and heroic Scythian?



I am content; fall in behind me, mountaineers.


Ruttan, weíll keep an eye upon this Scythian.

His show of braggart folly hides, I fear,

A deal of knavishness.


Trumpets! To Dongurh! March!


Scene III

Bappaís cot on the hillside.

Bappa, the Captain, Coomood, decorating the cot with flowers.


Where was she when you had the script from her?


Singing of battle on the rocks alone

With wrestling winds in her wild hair and raiment,

A joyous Oread.


Said she anything?


She gave it me with glad and smiling eyes

And laughed: “This for my noble Bheel, my sovereign

Of caterans, my royal beast of prey,

These to their mighty owners.”

Coomood Cumary

Will you read it?

Bappa (reads)

“Cateran, I have given thy captain letters which when thou hast read them, fail not to despatch. I have sent for teachers for thee to beat thee into modesty and lesson thee in better behaviour to a lady and princess ó ”

What letters has she given thee, captain? These?


To Pratap, Rao of Ichalgurh; ó and one

To Toraman the Scythian.


Deliver them.

Thouílt find at Dongurh both these warlike princes.

No, Iíll not read them.

Exit Captain.

Coomood Cumary

Let me hear the rest.


“Cateran, I will show thee the sum of thy bold and flagitious offences, though I dare not to hope that it will make thee ashamed. Thou hast laid injurious hands on a royal maiden, being thyself a mere Bheel and outlaw and of no parentage; thou hast carried me most violently to this thy inconsiderable and incommodious hut, treating the body of a princess as if it were a sack of potatoes; thou hast unmercifully and feloniously stripped my body with thy own rude Bheel hands of more ornaments than thou hast seen in thy lifetime and didst hurt me most cruelly in the deed, though thou vainly deniest it; thou hast compelled and dost yet compel me, the princess of Edur, by the infamous lack of women-servants in thy hut, to minister to thee, a common Bheel, menially with my own royal hands, so that my fingers are sore with scrubbing thy rusty sword which thou hast never used yet on anything braver than a hill-jackal, and my face is still red with leaning over the fire cooking thy most unroyal meals for thee; and to top these crimes, thou hast in thy robustious robber fashion taken a kiss from my lips without troubling thyself to ask for it, and thou yet keepest it with thee. All which are high misdoings and mortal offences; yet would I have pardoned them knowing thee to be no more than a boy and a savage. But now thou darest to tell me that I, a Rajpoot maiden, am in love with thee, a Bheel, and that even if I deny it, thou carest not; for I am thine already whether I will or no, thy captive and thy slave-girl. This is not to be borne. So I have written to my noble suitors of Ichalgurh and Scythia to avenge me upon thy Bheel body; I doubt not, they will soon carry thy head to Edur in a basket, if thou hast the manners to permit them. Yet since thy followers call thee Smiter of the Forest and Lion of the Hills, let me see thee smite more than jackals and rend braver than flesh of mountain-deer. Cateran, when thou trundlest the Scythian down-hill like a ball, thou mayst marry me in spite of thy misdeeds, if thou darest; and when thou showest thyself a better man than the Chouhan of Ichalgurh, which is impossible, thou mayst even keep me for thy slave-girl and I will not deny thee. Meanwhile, thou shalt give me a respite till the seventh morn of the May. Till then presume not to touch me. Thy captive, Comol Cumary.”

Why, hereís a warlike and most hectoring letter,


Coomood Cumary

She pours her happy heart out so

In fantasies; I never knew her half so wayward.

The more her soul is snared between your hands,

The more her lips will chide you.


Can you tell

Why she has set these doughty warriors on me,


Coomood Cumary

You cannot read a womanís mind.

Itís to herself a maze inextricable

Of vagrant impulses with half-guessed tangles

Of feeling her own secret thoughts are blind to.


But yet?

Coomood Cumary

Her sudden eager headstrong passion

Would justify its own extravagance

By proving you unparalleled. Therefore she picks

Earthís brace of warriors out for your opponents.


Pratap the Chouhan, Rao of Ichalgurh!

To meet him merely were a lifetimeís boast;

But to cross swords with him! Oh, she has looked

Into my heart.

Coomood Cumary

Youíll give her seven days?


Not hours ó the dainty rebel! Great Ichalgurh

Will wing here like an eagle; soon Iíll meet him

And overthrow, who feel a giantís strength,

Coomood, since yesterday. My fate mounts sunward.

Coomood Cumary

Ours, Bappa, has already arrived. Our sun

Rose yesterday upon the way to Dongurh.

Scene IV

Outside Dongurh.

Ichalgurh, a letter in his hand; Ruttan, the Captain.


Who art thou, soldier?


The leader of the lances

That guarded Edurís princess and with her

Were captived by the Bheels. Their chief I serve.


Thou hast dishonoured then the Rajpoot name

Deserting from thy lord to serve a ruffian

Under the eyes of death, thou paltry trembler.


My honour, Rao of Ichalgurh, is mine

To answer for, and at a fitting name24

I will return thy insults on my swordpoint.

But now I am only a messenger.


Iíll read

The princessí writing. (reads) “Baron of Ichalgurh,

My motherís clansman, warrior, noble Rajpoot,

Thrice over therefore bound to help the weak

And save the oppressed! A maiden overpowered,

Comol Cumary, Edurís princess, sues

For thy heroic arm of rescue, prince,

To the Bheel outlaws made a prey, unsought

By her own kin; whom if thou save, I am

A princess and thy handmaid, else a captive

Only and Bappaís slave-girl.” Go! my war-cry

Echoing among the hills shall answer straightway

This piteous letter. Ruttan, swift! Arm! arm!

I will not vent my wrath in braggart words,

But till it leap into my sword, I suffer.


You shall not wait for long.



I have a letter

To Toraman, the Scythian.


Give it to him,

For this is he.

Enter Canaca, Hooshka and Scythians.


It will not fill. This paltry barren Rajputana25 has not the wherewithal to choke up the gulf within me. Ha! avaunt! Dost thou flutter paper before me? I have no creditors in Rajputana.


I understand thee not. This is a script

Comol Cumary sends thee, Edurís princess.


Is it so? Well then, thou mayst kneel and lay it at my feet; I will deign to read it. (The Captain flings it into his hands.) What, thou dirty varlet! (The Captain lays his hand on his sword.) Nay, it is a game? Oh, I can catch, I can catch.

Exit Captain.

Canaca (reads)

“Prince Toraman, they say thou desirest me and earnest26 from Cashmere as far as Edur for my sake. Thou must come a little farther, prince! Bappa, the outlaw, has been beforehand with thee and holds me in durance among the hills. Prince, if thou yet desirest this little beauty one poor body can hold, come up hither and fight for its possession which otherwise I must in seven days perforce yield to my captor. From whom if thou canst rescue me ó but I will not drive bargains with thee, trusting rather to thy knightly princeliness to succour a distressed maiden for no hope of reward. Comol Cumary.”

No, no, no; there is too much butter about thee. No hope of reward! What! I shall fight like an enraged rhinoceros, I shall startle the hills by my valour, I shall stick three thousand Bheels with my own princely hand like so many boar-pigs; and all this violent morning exercise for what? To improve my appetite? I have more gastric juice than my guts can accommodate. They roar to me already for a haunch of venison.


Prince Toraman, shall I give the order for the hills?


Ay, Hooshka Longnose, hast thou news of venison, good fellow?


I meant, to rescue the Princess Comol Cumary from the Bheels.


Didst thou mean so? Nay, I will not hinder thy excellent intentions. But bring some venison with thee as thou comest along with her, Hooshka.


Prince of Cashmere, lead us to the hills and tear her from the grip of the outlaws. As a prince and a soldier thou canst do no less.


Thou liest through thy long nose! I can do much less than that. I will not suffer thee to put limits to my infinite ability. And I can tell a decoy-duck from a live gander. Shall I waddle my shins into Bappaís trap? This letter was written under compulsion.


The Princess must be rescued. I wonder, Prince Toraman, that thou wilt jest over a thing so grave and unhappy.


Why, genius will out, you cannot stable it for long, Hooshka; it will break bounds and gallop. Yet go, Hooshka, go; take all my men, Hooshka. Hooshka, slay the Bheel; rescue the lady, Hooshka. I wish I could go with thee and swing my dreadful blade with my mighty arm till the mountains re-echoed. But the simple truth is, I have a bleeding dysentery. Willingly would I shed my princely blood for my sweet lady, but it is shedding itself already otherwise.

Hooshka (aside)

Thou fat-gutted cowardly rogue, wilt thou blacken the name of a hero with thy antics? Out at once, or the Rajpoots shall know who thou art and carve thee into little strips for a dogís dinner.


Sayst thou, my little captain? Thy arguments are strangely conclusive. Arms! arms! my horse! my horse! Out, Scythians, to the hills! My horse, I say! I will do deeds; I will paint the hills in blood and tattoo the valleys. (Enter Scythians.) Amitabha! Amitabha! yell, you rogues, have you no lungs in your big greasy carcasses? With what will you fight then?



Enter Ruttan and Rajpoots.


Rajpoots, to save a noble lady captived

We march today. No gallant open enemy,

But savages who lurk behind the rocks

Are our opposers. Sweep them from the hills,

Rajpoots, with the mere flashing of your swords

And rescue from their villain touch a princess.

Exeunt Ichalgurh, Ruttan and Rajpoots.


March, Scythians! (aside) Hooshka, what say you? We will keep behind these mad-dog Rajpoots and fight valiantly in their shadow. That is but strategy.

Hooshka (aside)

If thou dost, I will kick thee into the enemyís midst with my jackboots.

Canaca (aside)

Wilt thou muddy such a fine coat as this is? Hast thou the heart? (aloud) Trumpets! Into the breach, into the breach, my soldiers!


Scene V

In the forest.

Pratap27, Ruttan and Rajpoots.


Bappa! Bappa! Ho, Sheva Ekling!

An arrow descends and a Rajpoot falls.


Still upwards!


Upwards still! Death on the height

Seats28 crowned to meet us; downwards is to dishonour

And thatís no Rajpoot movement. Brother Ruttan,

Weíre strangled with a noose intangible.

O my brave Rajpoots, by my headlong folly

Led to an evil death!


What is this weakness,

Chouhan of famous Ichalgurh? Remember

Thyself, my brother. But a little more

And we have reached their waspsí-nest on the hills.


Not one alive.

Another arrow. A Rajpoot falls.


I ask no better fate

Brother, than at thy side however slain,

Victorious or defeated.


We have acted

Like heedless children, thinking we had to stamp

Our armoured heel on a mere swarm and rabble,

But find ourselves at grip29 with skilful fighters

And a great brain of war. Safe under cover

They pick us off; we battle blindly forwards

Without objective, smiting at the wind,

Stumbling as in a nightmare and transfixed

Ignobly by a foe invisible

Our falchions cannot reach ó like crows, like jackals,

Not like brave men and battle-famous warriors.


Still on!


Yes, on, till the last man falls pierced

Upon the threshold that immures the sweetness

We could not save. Forward the Chouhan!

Enter Kodal.



A parley!


Speak, but talk not of surrender.


íTis that Iíll talk of. I am Bappaís mouthpiece.

Rajpoots, youíre quite surrounded. If we choose,

Our arrows buzzing through your brains can end you

In five swift minutes. Lay then at Bappaís feet

Your humble heads; else like mad dogs be skewered

And yelp your lives out.


Return unpunished; the name

Of envoy guards thy barbarous insolence.

Enter Sungram.


You speak too insolently your message, Kodal.

Chouhan of Ichalgurh, thou art too great

To die thus butchered. We demand a parley

For courteous equal terms, not base surrender.


Thou art a Rajpoot; dost thou lead these arrows?


I lead the shafts that wear thee out; another

Surrounds the Scythian; but we are the hands

Of one more godlike brain.


With him Iíll parley.


íTis well. Go, Kodal, learn our chieftainís will.

Exit Kodal.


Young man, thou hast a Rajpoot form and bearing,

Yet herdíst with the wild forest tribes, remote

From arms and culture. Dost thou hide thy name too?


I am a Chouhan like thyself, of birth

As princely. Ask the warriors of Ajmere

Who valiant Martund was; his sons are we,

Sungram and Prithuraj.


O youth, thy father

Was my great pattern and my guide in war.

Brother and enemy, embrace me.

They embrace.


Who is thy captain? For the sons of Martund

Serve not a Bheel.


Thine eyes shall answer thee.

Enter Bappa and Kodal.


A noble-featured-youth! What son of Kings

Lives secret in these rugged hills?



Of famous Ichalgurh, now if Iím slain

In battle, I can tell the dead Iíve seen thee,

Thou god of war. O let there be no hatred,

Hero, between us, but only faith.


Young chieftain,

Thou bearíst a godlike semblance, but thy deeds

Are less than noble. Hast thou not seized a princess

By robber violence, forced her with thee

To thy rude lair and threatenest her sweet body

With shameful mastery?


We are warriors, Rajpoot;

Two ways of mating only fit for us,

By mutual sweet attraction undenied

To grow to oneness as they do in heaven,

Or else with lion leap to seize our bride

And pluck her from the strong protecting spears

Taking her heart by violence. We mate not

Like castes unwarlike, from a fatherís hand

Drawing an innocent wide-eyed wondering child

Like cattle given or sold. This was the way

Of Rajpoots long before the earth grew aged;

And shall a Rajpoot blame it? Wherefore then rodíst thou

Clanging last morn from Ichalgurh in arms,

Pratap the Chouhan?


Chieftain, I am pledged

To save the girl from thee.


But canst redeem

The vow with thy dead body only. Hero,

I too am sworn to keep her ígainst the world.

Let us in the high knightly way decide it.

Deign to cross swords with me and let the victor

Possess the maiden.


O thou springing stem

That surely yet will30 rise to meet the sun!

Agreed. Let no man intervene betwixt us.


Kodal, restrain thy Bheels.

Exit Kodal. They fight.


Bold is thy chieftain

To match his boyish arm against my brother!


He is a mighty warrior, but not age

Nor bulk can measure strength; the exultant spirit

Facing31 towards glory gives the arm a force

Mightier than physical. Heís down.

Ichalgurh falls wounded.


Great Ichalgurh!

Who is this godlike combatant?



My princess, Chouhan.


Thou hast her who deservíst

Much more than her.

He rises.

Young hero who in thy first battle oíerbearíst

Maturer victors! Know Pratap the Chouhan

Unalterably thy friend. When thou shalt ask

My sword, ítis thine.


Thouírt wounded?

Ichalgurh (binding his wound)

I have been worse

And ridden far to meet the foe. Another day

Weíll share one rocky pillow on the hills

And talk of battles.


Pratap, I could but offer

A rude and hill-side hospitality.

But when I hold my court in mighty Edur

I will absolve thy32 morningís debt.

Enter Captain.




Escort him, friend.

Exeunt Sungram, Ichalgurh, Ruttan and Rajpoots.

How speeds the battle, comrade,

There with the Scythians?


It is finished, prince.

They fell in slaughtered heaps.


Prince Toraman?


Lay flat and bellowed. Weíld have taken him,

But Prithuraj, mad for the joy of battle,

Leaped on their foremost; while he hewed them down,

Like an untiring woodman, one giant Scythian

Crashing through bush and boulder hurled himself

Out of thy net; with him a loyal handful

Carried this Toraman.

Enter Prithuraj.


Pardon my error,



It was a noble fault, my soldier.

We have done all we hoped. The amorous Scythian

Will not return in haste mid our green hills

To woo a Rajpoot maiden. Let us go.

I wonder when great Edur moves upon us.

I long to hear his war assail our mountains.


Scene VI

Outside Bappaís cot.

Comol Cumary alone.

Comol Cumary

Have I too dangerously ventured my all

Daring a blast so rude? The Scythian roar

Appals no more the forest, nor the war-cry

Of Ichalgurh climbs mightily the hills;

The outlawsí fierce triumphant shout is stilled

Of their young war-godís name. Who has won? who fallen?

Enter Bappa.

Comol Cumary (coming eagerly to him)

How went the fight? Youíre safe! And Ichalgurh?


Give me your hands; Iíll tell you.

Comol Cumary

I see your headís

Not in the basket.

He takes her hands and draws her towards him.

Cateran, I forbade you

To touch me till the seventh day.


I touch

What is my own. To bid or to forbid

Is mine upon this hill-side where Iím sovereign.

Sit down by me.

Comol Cumary

I will not be commanded.

She sits down at his feet.


Oh, you are right, love. At my feetís more fitting

Who am your master and monarch. Come, no rising.

Stay there, where I can watch your antelope eyes

Look up at me bright with all loveís own sunshine.

Comol Cumary

Oh, you provoke me. Youíve not met the Chouhan,

Or youíld have been much chastened.


I have met him.

Comol Cumary

Great Ichalgurh?


We soon oíercame the Scythians.

Your lover, Comol, the great Toraman,

Was borne, a mass of terror-stricken flesh,

By faithful fugitives headlong down the hill-side.

Comol Cumary

You need not triumph. These were only Scythians.

But what of Ichalgurh?


We fought. I conquered.

Comol Cumary

Thou? thou? It is impossible.


But done.

Comol Cumary

Why, youíre a boy, a child! O my bright lion,

You are a splendid and a royal beast,

But very youthful. This was the maned monarch

Whose roar shook all the forest when he leaped

Upon his opposite. Then the great tusker

Went down beneath his huge and tawny front

As if it were an antelope. Him youíve conquered?


He fell and yielded.

Comol Cumary

You have learned romance

From the wild hill-tops and the stars at night

And take your visions for the fact.



Ask Sungram.

Comol Cumary

Then I understand. You won

As in your duel with me, quite unfairly.

You used your sleight of hand?


Perhaps, my princess,

His foot slipped and he fell; ítwas my good fortune,

Not I that conquered him.

Comol Cumary

Indeed it was

Your high resistless fortune. O my king,

My hero, thou hast oíerborne great Ichalgurh;

Then who can stand against thee? Thou shalt conquer

More than my heart.

(Bappa takes her into his arms)

What dost thou, Bheel? Forbear!

I did but jest.


Do you recall your letter,

Comol? I have outdone the Chouhan, girl.

Comol Cumary

Bheel, I wrote nothing, nothing.


Iíll keep you now

For my sweet slave-girl, princess? You will not

Deny me?

Comol Cumary

íTwas not my hand. Your Coomood forged it.

Iíll not admit it.


Rebel against your heart!

Youíre trapped in your own springs33. My antelope!34

Iíve brought you to my lair; shall I not prey on you?

Kiss me.

Comol Cumary

I will not.

(Kisses him)

O not now! O give me

The memory of this May to keep with me

Till death and afterwards, a dream of greenness

With visions of the white and vermeil spring,

A prelude set to winds and waterfalls

Among the mountains of immortal Dongurh

Far from the earth, in a delightful freedom

Treading the hilltops, all the joy of life

In front of me to dream of its perfection,



When you entreat, who shall refuse you,

O lips of honey?

Comol Cumary

Till the seventh morning,



Only and till35 then.

Comol Cumary

That is a promise.

(escaping from him)

Which, having won, I do deny, unsay,

Wholly recant and absolutely abjure

Whatever flattery I have said or done

To win it. You are still my Bheel and Brigand,

My lawless cateran; I great Edurís princess.

I love you! Do not dream of it. Six days!

By then my fatheríll smoke you from your lair

And take me from your dreadful claws, my lion,

An antelope undevoured.


Have you yet thought

Of the dire punishments youíll taste for this,


Comol Cumary

Not till the seventh morning, lion.



Till then, my antelope, range my hills and make them

An Eden for me with thy wondrous beauty

Moving in grace and freedom of the winds,

Sweetness of the green woodlands; for of these

Thou seemíst a part and they thy natural country.



Act Three

The forest near Dongurh.

Scene I

Comol, Coomood, meeting in the forest.

Coomood Cumary

Where were you hidden, Comol, all this morning?

Comol Cumary

I have been wandering in my woods alone

Imagining myself their mountain queen.

O Coomood, all the woodland worshipped me!

Coomood, the flowers held up their incense-bowls

In adoration and the soft-voiced winds

Footing with a light ease among the leaves

Paused to lean down and lisp into my ear,

Oh, pure delight. The forestís unnamed birds

Hymned their sweet sovran lady as she walked

Lavishing melody. The furry squirrels

Peeped from the leaves and waved their bushy tails,

Twittering, “There goes she, our beloved lady,

Comol Cumary;” and the peacocks came

Proud to be seen by me and danced in front,

Shrilling, “How gorgeous are we in our beauty,

Yet not so beautiful as is our lady,

Comol Cumary.” I will be worshipped, Coomood.

Coomood Cumary

You shall be. Thereís no goddess of them all

That has these vernal looks and such a body

Remembering the glory whence it came

Or apt to tread with the light vagrant breeze

Or rest with moonlight.

Comol Cumary

That was what they told me,

The voices of the forest ó sister Coomood,

The myriad voices.

Coomood Cumary

What did they tell you, Comol?

Comol Cumary

They told me that my hair was a soft dimness

With thoughts of light imprisoned inít; the gods,

They said, looked down from heaven and saw my eyes

Wishing that that were heaven. They told me, child,

My face was such as Brahma once had dreamed of

But could not ó no, for all the master-skill

That made the worlds ó recapture in the flesh

So rare a sweetness. They called my perfect body

A feast of gracious beauty, a refrain

And harmony in womanhood embodied.

They told me all these things ó Coomood, they did,

Though you will not believe it. I understood

Their leafy language.

Coomood Cumary

Come, you did not need

So to translate the murmurings of the leaves

And the windís whisper. íTwas a human voice

Iíll swear, so deftly flattered you.

Comol Cumary

Fie, Coomood,

It was the trees, the waters; the pure, soft flowers

Took voices.

Coomood Cumary

One voice. Did he roar softly, sweetheart,

To woo you?

Comol Cumary

Oh, heís a recreant to his duty.

He loves the wild deer fleeing on the hills

And the strong foemanís glittering blade, not Comol.

You must not talk of him, but of the hills

And greenness and of me.

Coomood Cumary

And Edur, Comol?

Comol Cumary

Edur! It is a name that I have heard

In some dim past, in some old far-off world

I moved in, oh, a waste of centuries

And many dreams ago. Iíll not return there.

It had no trees, Iím sure, no jasmine-bushes,

No happy breezes dancing with linked hands

Over the hill-tops, no proud-seated hills

Softening the azure, high-coped deep-plunging rocks

Or flowery greenness round, no birds, no Spring.

Coomood Cumary

We are the distance of a world from Edur.

Tomorrow is the May-feastís crowning day,


Comol Cumary

Oh then we shall be happy breezes

And dance with linkèd hands upon the hills

All the Spring-morning.

Coomood Cumary

It is a May to be


Comol Cumary

It is the May-feast of my life,

Coomood, the May-feast of my life, the May

That in my heart shall last for ever, sweet

For ever and for ever. Where are our sisters?

Coomood Cumary

Nirmol is carrying water from the spring;

Ishany hunts the browsing stag today,

A sylvan archeress.

Comol Cumary

What have you in the basket?

Coomood Cumary

Flowers I have robbed the greenest woodland of

For Bappaís worship. They must hide with bloom,

Sheva Ekling today. Tomorrow, sweet,

Iíll gather blossoms for your hair instead

And weave you silver-petalled anklets, ear-rings

Of bright may-bloom, zones of Spring-honeysuckle,

And hide your arms in vernal gold. Weíll set you

Under a bough, our goddess of the Spring,

And sylvanly adore, covering your feet

With flowers that almost match their moonbeam whiteness

Or palely imitate their rose; ó our Lady,

Comol Cumary.

Comol Cumary

Will Bappa worship me?

But I am an inferior goddess, Coomood,

And dare not ask the King of Paradise

To adore me.

Coomood Cumary

You must adore him, thatís your part.

Comol Cumary

I will, while ítis the May.

Coomood Cumary

And afterwards?

Comol Cumary

Coomood, we will not think of afterwards

In Dongurh, in the springtide.

Coomood Cumary

Tomorrow dawns

The seventh morning, Comol.

Comol Cumary

I did not hear you.

Are these our hunters?

Enter Prithuraj and Ishany.


I have a better aim

Than yours.


Did I deny it? Oh, you shoot

Right through the heart.


Iíll never marry one

Whom I outdo at war or archery.

You tell me you are famous Martundís son,

The mighty Gehlote. Wherefore lurk you then

In unapproachable and tangled woods

Warding off glory with your distant shafts,

While life sweeps past in the loud vale below?

Not breast the torrent, not outbrave its shocks

To carve your names upon the rocks of Time



We will affront, Ishany,

The Ganges yet with a victorious gleam

Of armour. But our fates are infant still

And in their native thickets they must wait

To flesh themselves and feel their lion strengths

Before they roar abroad.


Until they do,

Talk not of love.


What would you have me do?

Oíerbear in arms the Scythian Toraman,

And slay the giant Hooshka? Meet Ichalgurh

And come unharmed, or with my single sword

Say halt to a proud score of the best lances

You have in Edur? This and more I can

For thee, Ishany.


You talk, but do it first.

Doers were never talkers, Prithuraj.


Oh, thatís a narrow maxim. Noble speech

Is a high prelude fit for noble deeds;

It is the lionís roar before he leaps.

Proud eloquence graces the puissant arm

And from the hall of council to the field

Was with the great and iron men of old

Their natural stepping.


You only roar as yet.

I beat you with the bow today; sometime

Iíll fight you with the sword and beat you.


Will you?

Just as your lady did?


She played, she played,

But I would aim in earnest at your heart.

One day weíll fight and see.


Why, if we do,

Iíll claim a conquerorís right on your sweet body,



And my heart? You must do more,

If youíll have that.


It cannot now be long

Before the mailèd heel of Edur rings

Upon our hill-side rocks. Then Iíll deserve it.


Till then you are my fellow hunter only,

Not yet my captain.

Enter Nirmol.

Nirmol Cumary

Idlers and neíer-do-weels, home! Here have I carried twelve full jars from the spring, set wood on the stove, kindled the fire, while you play gracefully the sylvan gadabouts. Where is the venison?


Travelling to the cooking-pot on a Bheelís black shoulders.

Nirmol Cumary

In36 your service, Ishany! or you shall not taste the stag you have hunted.


Child, do not tyrannize. I am as hungry with this hunting as a beef-swallowing Scythian.


Nirmol Cumary

Off with you, hero, and help, her with your heroic shoulders.

Exit Prithuraj.

Comol Cumary

A pair of warlike lovers!

Nirmol Cumary

You are there, sister-truants? Have you no occupation but to lurk in leaves and eavesdrop upon the prattle of lovers?

Comol Cumary

Why, Nirmol, I did my service before I came.

Nirmol Cumary

Yes, I know! To sweep one room ó oh, scrupulously clean, for is it not Bappaís? and to scrub his armour for a long hour till it is as bright as your eyes grow when they are looking at Bappa ó do they not, Coomood?

Coomood Cumary

They do, like stars allowed to gaze at God.

Nirmol Cumary

Exact! I have seen her ó

Comol Cumary

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.

Nirmol Cumary

Do you think you are princess of Edur here that you threaten me? No, we are in the democracy of Spring where all sweet flowers are equals. Oh, I will be revenged on you for your tyrannies in Edur. I have seen her, Coomood, when she thought none was looking, lay her cheek wistfully against the hilt of his sword, trying to think that the cold hard iron was the warm lips of its master and hers. I have seen her kiss it furtively ó

Comol Cumary (embracing and stopping her mouth)

Hush, hush, you wicked romancer.

Nirmol Cumary

Go then and cook our meal like a good princess and I will promise not to repeat all the things I have heard you murmur to yourself when you were alone.

Comol Cumary

Nirmol, you grow in wickedness with years.

Wait till I have you back in Edur, maiden;

Iíll scourge this imp of mischief out of you.

Nirmol Cumary

I have heard her, Coomood ó

Comol Cumary

I am off, I am away! I am an arrow from Kodalís bow.


Nirmol Cumary

She is hard to drive, but I have the whip-hand of her.

Coomood Cumary

Have you the crimson sandal-powder ready?

Flowers for the garlands Spring in sweet abundance

Provides us.

Nirmol Cumary

Yes. She shall be wedded first37

Before she knows it.

Coomood Cumary

Unless my fatherís sword

Striking us through the flowery walls we hide in,

Prevent it, Nirmol.

Nirmol Cumary

Coomood, our fragile flowers will weave

A bond that steel cannot divide, nor death





Later edition of this work: The Complete Works of Sri Aurobindo: Set in 37 volumes.- Volumes 3-4.- Collected Plays and Stories.- Pondicherry: Sri Aurobindo Ashram, 1998.- 1008 p.

1 1998 ed. CWSA, volumes 3-4: Gehlote


2 1998 ed. CWSA, volumes 3-4: Gehlote


3 1998 ed. CWSA, volumes 3-4: Gehlote


4 In 1998 ed. CWSA, volumes 3-4, there is a line after this one: Hooshka, Scythian captain.


5 1998 ed. CWSA, volumes 3-4: Deesa


6 1998 ed. CWSA, volumes 3-4: honours


7 1998 ed. CWSA, volumes 3-4: glens


8 1998 ed. CWSA, volumes 3-4, sic passim: Comol


9 1998 ed. CWSA, volumes 3-4, sic passim: Coomood


10 1998 ed. CWSA, volumes 3-4: Vasavadutta


11 1998 ed. CWSA, volumes 3-4, sic passim: Nirmol


12 1998 ed. CWSA, volumes 3-4: princesses


13 1998 ed. CWSA, volumes 3-4: Brindavon


14 1998 ed. CWSA, volumes 3-4: Rajpootana


15 1998 ed. CWSA, volumes 3-4: Its


16 1998 ed. CWSA, volumes 3-4: Rajpootnies


17 1998 ed. CWSA, volumes 3-4: Oh,


18 1998 ed. CWSA, volumes 3-4: bow


19 1998 ed. CWSA, volumes 3-4: born.


20 In 1998 ed. CWSA, volumes 3-4, there is a line before this one:



21 1998 ed. CWSA, volumes 3-4: slight


22 1998 ed. CWSA, volumes 3-4: Rajpoot


23 1998 ed. CWSA, volumes 3-4: Deesa


24 1998 ed. CWSA, volumes 3-4: time


25 1998 ed. CWSA, volumes 3-4, sic passim: Rajpootana


26 1998 ed. CWSA, volumes 3-4: camest


27 1998 ed. CWSA, volumes 3-4: Ichalgurh


28 1998 ed. CWSA, volumes 3-4: Sits


29 1998 ed. CWSA, volumes 3-4: grips


30 1998 ed. CWSA, volumes 3-4: wilt


31 1998 ed. CWSA, volumes 3-4: Pressing


32 1998 ed. CWSA, volumes 3-4: this


33 1998 ed. CWSA, volumes 3-4: springe


34 In 1998 ed. CWSA, volumes 3-4, there is a line after this one:

(kisses her)


35 1998 ed. CWSA, volumes 3-4: Only till


36 1998 ed. CWSA, volumes 3-4: To


37 1998 ed. CWSA, volumes 3-4: fast