Collected Plays and Stories
CWSA. Volume 3 and 4
Incomplete and Fragmentary Plays
Fragment of a Play
A street in Mathura. Ahuca’s house.
What art thou?
One that walks the Night.
Thou art Ocroor by thy voice.
The Lord has given his creature. Thou shouldst be
If I am?
Walk not alone
When the black-bellied Night has swallowed earth
Lest all thou hast done to others should return
Upon thee with a sword in the dumb Night
And no man know it.
Care not; I am shielded.
Not by the gods!
No, by a greater god
Than any that have seats near Vishnu’s throne.
What god whom even Sudaman worships?
Whose shoe I have enshrined in Mathura
And all men kiss it and their tongues declare
’Tis justice and mild rule while their hearts hate
Thou art the Ogre. Has the blood
Of many nobles not contented thee?
Dost thou not feel enough thy furious greatness yet,
Ocroor, I have a belly to digest
Much more than Mathura.
So Ravan had
What dost thou in this black night
Whose shadows help the lover and the thief,
Two kindred traders? Which of these art thou?
Both, may be.
If thou be, then let thy theft
Attain some Yadav’s house, that I may laugh
At his dishonour.
Thou hatest much, it seems,
Thy father’s nation!
Whom I have imprisoned
That I may mock him daily, else were he dead
And with the gods he worships.
Thou shalt end
If it is so, ’tis so
Because the round of being leads to that,
And not because of gods or virtue.
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