_Sanko._ By the eight million Gods, he mocks me!
And shall perish Or go from this village!
_The Priest._ Aye ... but only When goes this maiden Whom you would hold Still to her idols. She must follow The Cross of Heaven.
_Sanko._ She shall follow O priest, but me.
_The Priest._ Murderer, pause!... There is a Hell Where the lost burn Even as say your sutras.
Pause! and strike not! The smitten Christ No longer holds My hands from strife.
O-Umè, I bid you Now cast away The gilded gods you have worshipped.
_O-Umè_ (_heedless of either_). And I, O-Umè, O'er whom you quarrel, And whom you tear Twixt Christ and Buddha, I, O-Umè, will end it.
[_Lifts the BUDDHA from the floor, and the crucifix, over her head._
Be all the gods forsaken-- Even as these!
[_Goes to river and casts them in. Then meets their horror with ever increasing passion._
Be all! And be you gone Forevermore! For if again I see your faces, If again They grieve my hours, If again While Fuji stands there-- The river shall gulf me, too. I swear it by the dead.
[_They look at her awed, then go slowly, silently out. She sinks on her heels, hands folded, and stares before her. The lights on the river drift on._
VISHWAMYA _A Renowned Ascetic_ RISHYAS _His Son, a Young Saint_ SUNANDI _An Old Woman of the Court of the Rajah of Anga_ KOÏL _A Young Girl of the Court_
SCENE: _Before the hermitage of VISHWAMYA and RISHYAS, in a forest near the Ganges. It is an open space spread with kusa-grass and over-hung with trees--the hermitage itself being a cell constructed of earth and of hanging roots of the banyan, and having by it an altar before which lies a deer-skin. Glimmering lights and running water penetrate the shades, whose sacredness is soon disturbed by the appearance of SUNANDI, wantonly compelling KOÏL, with alternate harshness and wheedling, to enter with her._
_Sunandi_ (_peering about_). The place, my jewel-bird! the place for it! Under these boughs of peepul and asoka The young saint dwells With his restraining sire, Singing the Vedas morning, eve and noon, And they are gone somewhither now in the wood To gather fruit for sacrifice, and flowers.
But he, the boy, will soon return, my pretty.
_Koïl_ (_whom she has released_). And you have drawn me from the city here To break into his holy breast with passion? To dance and sing and seize him? I you have taught the wiles of winning men, As the cobra-charmer teaches, Must lure him from his saintly innocence, And with the beauty I was born unto Must tangle him?... You, O Sunandi, are an evil woman, To lead me to it!