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You are not cruel, and a gentle nature

Ranks you above your sovereign. I implore you,

By all your future hopes, oh! once permit me

To view my son, ere I depart to death.

1st Chan. Let him come-Men, stand back, and let the child approach-here, this way.

Enter MAITREYA with ROHASENA.

Mai. Here we have him, boy, once more; your dear father, who was going to be murdered.

Boy. Father-Father!

Char. Come hither, my dear child. (Embraces him and takes his hands.)

These little hands will ill suffice to sprinkle
The last sad drops upon my funeral pyre-
Scant will my spirit sip thy love, and then
A long and painful thirst in heaven succeeds.
What sad memorial shall I leave thee, boy,
To speak to thee hereafter of thy father?

This sacred string, whilst yet 'tis mine, I give thee.
The Brahman's proudest decoration, boy,

Is not of gold nor gems, but this-with which
He ministers to sages and to Gods.

This grace my child, when I shall be no more. cord, and puts it round his son's neck.)

1st Chan. Come, you Charudatta, come along.

(Takes off his Brahmanical

2d Chan. More respect, my master-recollect; by night or day, in adversity or prosperity, worth is always the same. Come, sir, complaints are unavailing; fate holds her course, and it is not to be expected that men will honour the moon, when Rahu has hold of him.

Roha. Where do you lead my father, vile Chandala?

Char. I go to death, my child; the fatal chaplet

Of Karavira hangs around my neck:

The stake upon my shoulder rests, my heart

Is burdened with despair, as, like a victim

Dressed for the sacrifice, I meet my fate.

1st Chan. Harkye, my boy, they who are born Chandalas are not the only onesthose whose crimes disgrace their birth are Chandalas too.

Roha. Why, then, want to kill my father?

1st Chan. The king orders us; it is his fault, not ours.

Roha. Take and kill me; let my father go.

1st Chan. My brave little fellow, long life to you.
Char. (Embracing him.)

This is the truest wealth; love equal smiles
On poor and rich: the bosom's precious balm
Is not the fragrant herb, nor costly unguent-
But nature's breath, affection's holy perfume.

Mai. Come now, my good fellows, let my worthy friend escape: you only want a body-mine is at your disposal.

Char. Forbear-Forbear.

1st Chan. Come on; stand off; what do you throng to see? a good man who has lost his all, and fallen into despair, like a gold bucket whose rope breaks, and it tumbles into the well.

2d Chan. Here stop, beat the drum, and proclaim the sentence. (As before.) Char. This is the heaviest pang of all; to think

Such bitter fruit attends my closing life.

And, oh! what anguish, love, to hear the calumny

Thus noised abroad, that thou wast slain by me. [Exeunt.

Samsthanaka surveys the scene below from a window of his palacesaying, "I have had a most sumptuous regale in the palace here; rice with acid sauce, and meat, and fish, and vegetables, and sweetmeats.The destruction of an enemy is a

VOL. XXXV. NO, CCXVII.

banquet to the heart. He is dressed like a young steer-and they are taking him to the south." His soliloquy is broken by discovering that his slave, who saw the murder, has made his escape, and he runs after One of him towards the station.

K

the executioners sees him coming and cries-"Out of the way there -make room-here he comes like a mad ox, butting with the sharp horns of arrogance." He tries to cajole the slave, but he won't be cajoledand cries savagely, "What, sir, are you not satisfied with having murdered Vasantasena, that you must now endeavour to compass the death

of the excellent Charudatta ?" The mob take part with the slave-and Samsthanaka first loudly accuses him of being a thief and a robber, and then whispers in his ear to take a bribe of jewels. The slave takes the bracelet and holds it up-and the murderer instantly cries out"See the very ornament I punished him for stealing!

1st Chan. It is very true-and a scorched slave will set any thing on fire. Stha. Alas, this is the curse of slavery, to be disbelieved even when we speak the truth. Worthy Charudatta, I can do no more. (Falls at his feet.)

Char. Rise, thou who feelest for a good man's fall,

And com'st a virtuous friend to the afflicted,

Grieve not, thy cares are vain, whilst destiny
Forbids my liberation, all attempts

Like thine, will profit nothing.

1st Chan. As your honour has already chastised this slave, you should let him go. Sams. Come-come. What is this delay: why do you not despatch this fellow? 1st Chan. If you are in such haste, sir, you had better do it yourself.

Ruh. Kill me, and let my father live.

Sams. Kill both; father and son perish together.

Char. All answers to his wish-Return, my child,

Go to thy mother, and with her repair

To some asylum, where thy father's fate

Shall leave no stain on thee-my friend, conduct them

Hence without delay.

Mai. Think not, my dear friend, that I intend to survive you.

Char. My good Maitreya, the vital spirit owes not

Obedience to our mortal will: beware

How you presume to cast that life away:

It is not thine to give, or to abandon.

Mai. (Apart.) It may not be right, but I cannot bear to live when he is gone. I will go to the Brahman's wife, and then follow my friend. (Aloud.) Well, I obey: this task is easy. (Falls at his feet, and, rising, takes the child in his arms.) Sams. Hola, did I not order you to put the boy to death along with his father? (Charudatta expresses alarm.)

1st Chan. We have no such orders from the Rajah-away, boy, away. (Forces off Maitreya and Rohasena.) This is the third station, beat the drum, and proclaim the sentence. (As before.)

Sams. (Apart.) The people seem to disbelieve the charge. (Aloud.) Why, Charudatta, the townsmen doubt all this be honest; say at once, I killed Vasantasena. (Charudatta continues silent.) Ho, Chandala, this vile sinner is dumb; make him speak; lay your cane across his back.

2d Chan. Speak, Charudatta. (Strikes him.)

Char. Strike-I fear not blows: in sorrow plunged,

Think you such lesser ills can shake my bosom?

Alone I feel the flame of men's reports,

The foul assertion that I slew my love.

Sams. Confess, confess.

Char. My friends and fellow-citizens, ye know me.

Sams. She is murdered.

Char. Be it so.

1st Chan. Come-the execution is your duty.

2d Chan. No-it is yours.

1st Chan. Let us reckon. (They count.) Now, if it be my turn, I shall delay it as long as I can.

2d Chan. Why?

1st Chan. I will tell you-my father, when about to depart to heaven, said to me -Son, whenever you have a culprit to execute, proceed deliberately, never do your work in a hurry; for, perhaps, some worthy character may purchase the criminal's liberation; perhaps a son may be born to the Rajah, and a general pardon be pro

claimed-perhaps an elephant may break loose, and the prisoner escape in the confusion-or perhaps a change of rulers may take place, and every one in bondage be set at large.

Sams. (Apart.) A change of rulers.

1st Chan. Come, let us finish our reckoning.

Sams. Be quick-be quick, get rid of your prisoner. (Retires.)

1st Cahn. Worthy Charudatta-we but discharge our duty-the king is culpable, not we, who must obey his orders: consider-have you any thing to say?

Char. If virtue yet prevail, may she who dwells
Amongst the blest above, or breathes on earth,
Clear my fair fame from the disastrous spots
Unfriendly fate, and man's accusing tongue,

Have fixed upon me-Whither do you lead me?

1st Chan. Behold the place-the southern cemetery, where criminals quickly get rid of life; see where jackalls feast upon one half of the mangled body, whilst the other yet grins ghastly on the pointed stake.

Char. Alas, my fate! (Sits down.)

Sams. I shall not go till I have seen his death. How, sitting?

1st Chan. What! are you afraid, Charudatta?

Char. (Rising.) Of infamy I am, but not of death.

1st Chan. Worthy sir, in heaven itself the sun and moon are not free from change and suffering; how should we, poor weak mortals, hope to escape them in this lower world? One man rises but to fall, another falls to rise again, and the vesture of the carcass is at one time laid aside, and at another resumed;-think of these things, and be firm. This is the fourth station, proclaim the sentence. (Proclamation as before.)"

But make way for the Bauddha Mendicant and the dead-alive-the strangled Vasantasena! She flings herself on Charudatta's bosom, and the executioners stand aghast. The murderer absconds-but the one of those grim personages says to the other, "Harkye, brother, we were ordered to put to death the murderer of Vasantasena-we had better then secure the Rajah's brother-inlaw." The rescued says to his de liverer

"Behold, my sweet! these emblems that

so late

Denoted shame and death, shall now proclaim

A different tale, and speak our nuptial joy,

This crimson vesture be the bridegroom's garb,

This garland be the bride's delightful present;

And this brisk drum shall change its mournful sounds

To cheerful tones of marriage celebration."

Loud shouts are now heard from a distance-and cries of "Victory to Vrishabhaketu, the despoiler of Daksha's sacrifice. Glory to the sixfaced scatterer of armies, the foe of Krauncha; victory to Aryaka, the subjugator of his adversaries, and triumphant monarch of the wide

spread, mountain-banner'd earth!”
Servillaka, the night-robber, insur-
gent, and patriot, appears, and cries,
"This hand hath slain the king, and on
the throne

Of Palaka ascends our valiant chief,
Resistless Aryaka, in haste anointed."

He joins hands with Charudatta, and raises them to his forehead. "In me behold the plunderer who forced his way into your mansion, and bore off the pledge intrusted to your care

I ask you mercy. To you who enabled the Son of the Cow-herd to escape from death, he gives authority in Ujayin, along the Veni's borders, Kusavati"-but another uproar "Bring him along-bring him along

the Rajah's villanous brother-inlaw." Enter mob dragging along Samsthanaka, with his arms tied behind his back.

"Sams. Alas, alas-how I am maltreated: bound and dragged along as if I were a restive ass, or a dog, or any brute beast. I am beset by the enemies of the state; whom can I Åy to for protection ?—yes, I will have recourse to him. (Approaches Charudatta.) Preserve me. (Falls at his feet.)

Mob. Let him alone, Charudatta; leave him to us, we'll despatch him.

Sams. O, pray, Charudatta, I am helpless; I have no hope but you.

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away.

Char. Hold, hold-may I be heard?
Ser. Assuredly.

Sams. Most excellent Charudatta, I have flown to you for refuge-O protect me, spare me now; I will never seek your harm any more.

Mob. Kill him, kill him,—why should such a wretch be suffered to live? (Vasantasena takes the garland off Charudatta's neck, and throws it round Samsthanaka's.)

Sams. Gentle daughter of a courtezan, have pity upon me, I will never kill you again: Never, never.

Ser. Give your commands, sir, that he may be removed, and how we shall dispose of him?

Char. Will you obey in what I shall enjoin?

Ser. Be sure of it.

Char. In truth?
Ser. In very truth.

Char. Then for the prisoner—
Ser. Kill him—

Char. Set him free.

Ser. Why so?

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Solicits quarter, must not feel your sword. Ser. Admit the law, then give him to the dogs.

Char. Not so.

His punishment be mercy.

Ser. You move my wonder, but shall be obeyed.

What is your pleasure?

Char. Loose him, and let him go. Ser. He is at liberty. (Unties him.) Sams. Huzza!-I am again alive." Another cry-for the noble wife of Charudatta, with her child vainly clinging to her raiment, seeks to enter the fatal fire, in spite of the entreaties of the weeping crowd. She had heard that her husband was condemned to death, and desired to die before him, and though informed by Chandanaka, the kind Captain of the Watch, that he was safe, "yet who, in the agonies of despair, is susceptible of consolation or confidence ?" The scene in which she is beheld with Rohasena holding her garment, Maitreya and Radanika with the fire kindled, is supposed to be an interpolation-but to conjecture from the style, Professor H. Wilson says it is still ancient, and genuinely Hindu. Charudatta embraces his wife, who turning to Vasantasena says, "Welcome, happy sister." The curtain is about to drop on a happy ending.

Ser. Lady Vasantasena, with your worth
The king is well acquainted, and requests

To hold you as his kinswoman.

Vas. Sir, I am grateful. (Servillaka throws a veil over her.)
Ser. What shall we do for this good mendicant?

Char. Speak, Sramana, your wishes.

Sram. To follow still the path I have selected,

For all I see is full of care and change.

Char. Since such is his resolve, let him be made
Chief of the monasteries of the Bauddhas.

Ser. It shall be so.

Sram. It likes me well.

Ser. Sthavaraka remains to be rewarded.

Char. Let him be made a free-man-slave no more.

For these Chandalas let them be appointed

Heads of their tribe, and to Chandanaka
The power the Rajah's brother-in-law abused
To his own purposes, be now assigned.

Ser. As you direct: is there ought else? command.
Char. Naught but this.

Since Aryaka enjoys the sovereign sway,

And holds me as his friend-since all my foes
Are now destroyed, save one poor wretch released

To learn repentance for his former faults.
Since my fair fame again is clear, and this
Dear girl-my wife, and all I cherish most,

Are mine once more, I have no further suit
That asks for your indulgence, and no wish
That is not gratified.-Fate sports with life,
And like a wheel the whirling world revolves;
Where some are raised to affluence, some depressed
In want; where some are borne awhile aloft,
And some hurled down to wretchedness and woe.
Then let us all thus limit our desires:

Full uddered be the kine, the soil be fertile,
May copious showers descend, and balmy gales
Breathe health-be every living thing exempt
From pain-may reverence on the Brahman wait,
Whilst truth and piety ensure prosperity:
And may all monarchs, vigilant and just,
Humble their foes, and guard the world in peace.

Of a Drama in Ten Acts, full of character and incident, description and reflection, it is perhaps not possible to give an adequate idea in one article; yet we cannot doubt that our analysis and extracts will be read with great interest, for they give many animated pictures, not of Hindu life alone, but of human life at large, wherever it breathes and burns, acts or suffers, sinks or soars. It might be made an English play. But let it be as King Sudraka and Professor Horace Wilson have made it. The Translator has nobly done his duty; and his volumes are an important addition to Dramatic Literature. The strong and enduring charm of this extraordinary composition lies in the truth of its moral sentiments-in the perspicacity and fidelity of Conscience seeing and trusting in the Right. Charudatta is no perfect character-he had been too munificent, else had he not been so destitute; but in our respect and pity we can but gently blame the noble prodigal. Selfishness we so hate, as to love generosity, even when through excess it becomes a fault; and he who errs from an overkind disposition, seems, in most moods of our mind, to deserve praise, not pardon. We forget his weak ness in their ingratitude who requite not his benefactions; and in his want see a reproach. The state of society shewn in the Drama in much is corrupt; but not rotten at the heart, for his virtue tells; painful as the sense of his poverty is to himself, it has not here its severest sting-it does not "make him ridiculous;" the poor Brahman of the Hindu is a more dignified character than the

[Exeunt Omnes.

"Poor Gentleman" of the English stage-for he, if we misremember not, is dressed in a suit of napless sables, and is the Impersonation of a Whine.

We need not say a single word more for Vasantasena. Yet we hope that the poor creature is not now excluded from thy sympathiesThou who art pure as a flower and bright as a star! Alas! think what this world has made of women! and bless God that the Christian religion has kept thee his unspotted child. What if thou hadst sprung like a violet on unguarded ground, and heaven's dews had imbued thy leaves with beauty, while vilest hands were privileged to pluck them, and no pale was there between them and vilest feet! Lovely still must thou then have been-even like Vasantasena; but woe to the Flower that in all its loveliness is treated-like a weed!

Maitreya is worthy of being Charudatta's friend. True, he is a Viduskaka-a Gracioso; but he is as far as possible from a buffoon. He has humour and good humour-good temper-good disposition-good nature, and that comes close upon being a good man. He does not spunge on the bankrupt; but pays him for bed and board-both spare

in pleasantry and merriment, pitched to such a key as soothes melancholy thoughts, and his presence has all the restlessness and animation of sunshine dancing in a dark apartment. Leave but a chink, and it will steal in to gladden. He is a laughing philosopher. But believe it on our word, that there never was a laughing philosopher who knew

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