Chapter VII: Part II: The Development of the Sanskrit Drama

III

AÇVAGHOṢA AND THE BUDDHIST DRAMA

1. THE ÇĀRIPUTRAPRAKARAṆA

The discovery of fragments of manuscripts on palm-leaf, of great antiquity, at Turfan, has through the energy of Professor Lüders revealed to us the existence of at least three Buddhist dramas. Of one of these the authorship is happily certain, for the colophon of the last act has been preserved, and it records that the drama was the Çāriputraprakaraṇa of Açvaghoṣa, son of Suvarṇākṣī; it gives also the fuller title Çāradvatīputraprakaraṇa and the number of acts as nine.

Açvaghoṣa is an author whose fame, thanks to his error in being a Buddhist long lost in India, has recently attained renewal by the discovery and publication of his Buddhacarita, a court epic in excellent style and spirit on the life of the Buddha. His Sūtrālaṁkāra is also known through the medium of a Tibetan translation, and illustrates his ability in turning the tale into an instrument for propaganda in support of the Buddhist faith. If the tradition which ascribes to him the Mahāyānaçraddhotpāda is correct, he was also the founder or expounder of a subtle system of metaphysics akin to the Vijñānavāda of the Mahāyāna school, and the Vajrasūcī seems to preserve in some measure the record of his onslaught on the caste system, which exalted the Brahmins at the expense of the Kṣatriyas, and condemned Buddhism on the score that it was unfitting that a Kṣatriya like the Buddha should give instructions to Brahmins. Certainly genuine is the Saundarananda, in the epic manner, which like all his works is devoted to the effective exposition of Buddhism in the language of polite literature, and also of the Brahmin schools. We recognize in him one who appreciated that it would never do to allow Buddhism to remain buried in a form inferior to the best that Brahminism could produce, and it is curious that fate should have preserved the work of the rival of the Brahmins, while it has permitted his models to disappear. That he had abundant precedent to guide him is clear from the classical form already assumed by his dramas; the argument of Professor Konow [153] to the contrary, on the ground that many of the standing formulae and characters are derived from the popular drama, and show that the artistic drama had not developed yet full independence, is unintelligible, since these features persist throughout the history of the Sanskrit drama. Nor does any weight attach to the argument that the Nāṭyaçāstra, assumed to be of about the same period as Açvaghoṣa, shows knowledge of only a limited variety of dramas. On the contrary it is amazing how much literature must have preceded to permit of the setting up of the main types of drama, some of which were evidently represented by many specimens, though others doubtless rested on a small basis of practice.

The brief fragments preserved of the drama of Açvaghoṣa give us the certainty of his authorship if any doubt could exist after the colophon, for one verse is taken bodily from the Buddhacarita, just as he twice refers in the Sūtrālaṁkāra to that important work. The story of the play is clear; it deals with the events which led up to the conversion of the young Maudgalyāyana and Çāriputra by the Buddha, and some of the incidents are certain. Çāriputra had an interview with Açvajit; then he discussed the question of the claims of the Buddha to be a teacher with his friend, the Vidūṣaka, who raised the objection that a Brahmin like his master should not accept the teaching of a Kṣatriya; Çāriputra repels the objection by reminding his friend that medicine aids the sick though given by one of inferior caste, as does water one aheat. Maudgalyāyana greets Çāriputra, inquiring of him the cause of his glad appearance, and learns his reasons. The two go to the Buddha, who receives them, and who foretells to them that they will be the highest in knowledge and magic power of his disciples. In this point there is a deliberate and certainly artistic deviation from the ordinary version of the incident, followed in the Buddhacarita, in which the prophecy of the Buddha is addressed, not to the disciples themselves, but to others of the Buddha’s followers. The end of the play is marked by a philosophic dialogue between Çāriputra and the Buddha, which includes a polemic against the belief in the existence of a permanent self; it terminates in a praise of his two new disciples by the Buddha, and a formal benediction.

The most remarkable thing regarding this drama is its close correspondence to the classical type as laid down in the Nāṭyaçāstra. The piece is a Prakaraṇa, and it has nine acts, which accords perfectly with the rule of the Çāstra; the Mṛcchakaṭikā and Mālatīmādhava have ten apiece; the Acts bear no titles, but this is in accord with the normal usage, though the Mṛcchakaṭikā gives names. The hero is Çāriputra, who corresponds to the Brahmin hero of the Çāstra, and who is emphatically of the noble and calm type enjoined by that authority. Whether the heroine was a lady or a hetaera we do not know, nor does it appear how far the poet altered the subject-matter by invention, which is normally the case with later Prakaraṇas. The Buddha and his disciples, including, beside the two heroes, Kauṇḍinya and a Çramaṇa speak Sanskrit, and use both prose and verse; the Vidūṣaka speaks Prākrit. The presence of this figure is a remarkable proof of the fixed character attained by the drama, for in itself there is nothing more absurd than that a youthful ascetic seeking after truth should be encumbered by one who is a meet attendant on a wealthy merchant, Brahmin, or minister. It can, therefore, only be supposed that Açvaghoṣa was writing a type of drama in which the rôle was far too firmly embedded to permit its omission, and presumably in the story of the drama now lost to us the Vidūṣaka served to introduce comic relief. With natural good taste, he disappears from the last Act, where Çāriputra has no need as a member of the Buddha’s fraternity for encumbrances like a jester.

In one point only has it been claimed to find a clear discrepancy between Açvaghoṣa’s practice and that of the later drama. At the close the theory [154] requires that the question, ‘Is there anything further that you desire (ataḥ param api priyam asti)?’ be addressed to the hero by himself or another, to which he replies by uttering a benediction styled the Bharatavākya. In the drama of Açvaghoṣa the phrase is omitted, and the benediction proceeds, without prelude, with the words, ‘From now on shall these two ever increase their knowledge, restraining their senses, to gain release’, spoken by the Buddha, not by the hero. Lüders concludes hence that the regular form of close was not yet established by Açvaghoṣa’s time. The conclusion is clearly fallacious, and rests on a failure to recognize in this the readiness of Açvaghoṣa to give effect to a traditional usage, while not slavishly following it. It would obviously have been absurd to place the last words in the drama in the form of a benediction in the mouth of any one save the Buddha, and therefore he speaks the benediction. To preface it with the usual formula was needless in his case, but the opening words of the verse are ataḥ param, which is obviously not an incredible coincidence, but a deliberate reference to the ordinary phrase. Açvaghoṣa shows thus his knowledge of the rule and his power to vary it in case of need. Similarly Bhaṭṭa Nārāyaṇa in the Veṇīsaṁhāra puts the Bharatavākya in the mouth of Yudhiṣṭhira, but he makes Kṛṣṇa end the play by according the favour prayed for by Yudhiṣṭhira. He too felt that it would be absurd to leave the omnipotent one in the position of listening without response to the utterance of a benediction by one who cannot be more than an inferior, though nominally the hero. [155]

2. THE ALLEGORICAL AND THE HETAERA DRAMAS

The same manuscript which contains portions of the Çāriputraprakaraṇa has also fragments of two other dramas. There is no evidence of their authorship, other than the fact that they appear in the same manuscript as the work of Açvaghoṣa, and that they display the same general appearance as the work of that writer. That they are Açvaghoṣa’s is much more probable than that they are the work of some unknown contemporary. [156]

The first of these is specially interesting as it represents a type of which we have otherwise no earlier specimen than the Prabodhacandrodaya of Kṛṣṇamiçra. We find the allegorical figures of Buddhi, wisdom, Kīrti, fame, and Dhṛti, firmness, appearing and conversing. This is followed by the advent of the Buddha himself, adorned with the halo which he borrowed from Greek art. We do not know whether he appeared later in actual conversation with the allegorical figures, but for this mixture of the real and the ideal we have to go beyond Kṛṣṇamiçra, who represents all his characters as abstract, Viṣṇu for instance by Faith in Viṣṇu, to Kavikarṇapūra’s glorification of Caitanya in the sixteenth century, in which allegorical figures are mingled with Caitanya and his followers, though they do not actually converse together. [157] It must remain uncertain whether there was a train of tradition leading from Açvaghoṣa to Kṛṣṇamiçra, or whether the latter created the type of drama afresh; the former theory is the more likely. The characters all speak Sanskrit, but the fragments are too short to give us any real information on the general trend of the play.

The other drama gives us more interesting matter. It is one in which figures a hetaera named Magadhavatī, a Vidūṣaka named Komudhagandha, a hero styled only Nāyaka, but probably named Somadatta, a Duṣṭa, rogue, without further name, a certain Dhānaṁjaya, who may possibly be a prince if the term ‘king’s son’ (bhaṭṭidālaka), which is recognized in the Nāṭyaçāstra as the style of the younger princes of the blood, applies to him, a maid-servant, and Çāriputra and Maudgalyāyana. The drama was doubtless intended for purposes of religious edification, but what we have is too fragmentary to do more than show that the author was possessed of humour and that the Vidūṣaka was already a hungry soul. The drama alludes to an old garden as the place where part of the action passed, as in the Mṛcchakaṭikā, and also as in that drama the house of the hetaera served as the scene of another part of the action. The characters are often introduced as entering in vehicles (pravahaṇa), a further point of similarity to that drama, while an allusion to a Samāja or festival on a hill-top accords with the frequent reference to such amusements in Buddhist literature. An obscure character is a person, obviously of lower rank, who is styled Gobaṁ°.

The drama shows close agreement with the classical model; the name of the Vidūṣaka is evidence of this, for not only is it connected with a real Brahmin family, but it obeys the rule that the name of that character should indicate a flower, the spring, &c., for it means literally ‘the offspring of the lotus-smelling’. The name of the hetaera does not observe the rule exemplified in the Cārudatta that the hetaera’s name should end in senā, siddhā, or dattā, but, apart from the fact that the authority for the rule is very late, the name was very probably given to the poet by the literary tradition. The fact that the Duṣṭa and the Nāyaka appear by these titles only has a parallel in the Cārudatta and the Buddhist drama of Harṣa, the Nāgānanda, but it is difficult to say whether or not this is a sign of antiquity.

The material available in the case of any of the three dramas is too scanty to give us any assurance as to what the practice was regarding the introduction, especially the use of the Nāndī, or verse of benediction. What is certain is that the Pāripārçvika, or assistant of the Sūtradhāra in the later literature, is found apparently as taking part in the opening of the drama, perhaps the Çāriputraprakaraṇa.

3. THE LANGUAGE OF THE DRAMAS

In accordance with the later rules we find the Buddha, his disciples, the hero of the hetaera play and Dhānaṁjaya speaking Sanskrit; the same is true of the allegorical characters, and this is also in accord with later practice, for in both Kṛṣṇamiçra and Kavikarṇapūra’s works some of the allegorical characters speak Sanskrit, though others, of more feminine appeal and character, speak Prākrit. One Çramaṇa speaks Sanskrit, another—conceivably an Ājīvika—a Prākrit.

The Sanskrit contains some errors, which are obvious Prākritisms, and which it would be unjust to attribute to the author, or authors. Genuine departures from the norm are scanty; the use of ārttha for artha has a precise parallel in the nearly contemporaneous dialect of Mathurā; tuṣṇīm is frequent in Buddhist Sanskrit as well as etymologically correct; krimi is found also in the Buddhacarita where the reading kṛmi would spoil the metre; pratīgṛhīta has many Sanskrit parallels. In pradveṣam where the metre requires pradoṣam Buddhist influence is doubtless present, but yeva and tāva are probably merely errors of the scribe, to whom may be assigned such a monstrosity as paçyemas and Somadattassa. But bhagavāṁ has the support of the practice of the Mahāvastu where stems in mat and vat end thus, and it explains the Sandhi çṛṇvam puṣpā. These are minimal variants; in the main the Sanskrit is excellent and the fragments shows traces of the able versification and style of Açvaghoṣa.

The other characters speak Prākrit, and, by a curious variation from the normal practice, the stage directions, which are freely given as in the classical drama, are normally expressed in the language which the character concerned uses, though there are cases of mixture and apparent confusion which may be due to the scribe. Three different forms of Prākrit may be distinguished, the first spoken by the Duṣṭa, the second by the mysterious Gobaṁ°, and the third by the hetaera and Vidūṣaka.

The Duṣṭa’s speech in three important points is similar to the Māgadhī of the Prākrit grammarians; it substitutes l for r; reduces all three sibilants to ç; and has e in the nominative singular of masculine nouns in a. But it ignores the rules of the grammarians in certain matters; hard letters are not softened (e.g. bhoti), nor soft consonants elided (e.g. komudagandha), when intervocalic. There is no tendency to cerebralize n, and in kālanā the dental replaces the cerebral. Fuller forms of consonants remain in han̄gho (haṅho) and bambhaṇa (bamhaṇa). The later forms of development of consonantal combinations are unknown; thus for rj we have jj, not yy, as in ajja; cch remains in lieu of becoming çc; kṣ becomes kkh, not sk or ẖk; ṣṭ and ṣṭh give ṭṭh, not sṭ. In kiçça we have an older form than kīça, in ahakaṁ than ahake, hake, hage. In practically all these details we must see an earlier stage of what becomes Māgadhī in the grammarians. With it may be compared the metrical inscription of the Jogīmārā cave on the Rāmgarh hill which belongs to the period of Açoka.

The Prākrit of the Gobaṁ° agrees with this Old Māgadhī in having l for r and e in the nominative singular, but it reduces all sibilants to s. It thus shows a certain similarity to the Ardha-Māgadhī of the grammarians, but that dialect often keeps r though it frequently alters it to l; for instance it has r for the kaleti of this Prākrit and the Old Māgadhī. Other points of similarity are the retention of the dental for cerebral in vanna; the lengthening of the vowel before the suffix ka (vannīkāhi); the accusative plural neuter in pupphā; and the infinitive bhuṁjitaye (bhuñjittae). There are points of difference, but they are probably all cases of earlier forms. Thus, as in Old Māgadhī, we have no softening or loss of intervocalic consonants; n is not cerebralised, but even introduced in palinata; ḷ appears in lieu of l; the instrumental in āhi has no nasal; the nominative of vat stems appears as in vā, as against vaṁ or vante; in the infinitive we find no doubling of the consonant in taye. The fact, however, of the regular change of r to l and the use of the form yeva after a long vowel as in Māgadhī and Pāli show that the Old Ardha-Māgadhī was more akin to Māgadhī than the later Ardha-Māgadhī, which came steadily under the influence of the western dialects as shown by the tendency to change e of the nominative to o.

There are strong points of similarity between this Old Ardha-Māgadhī and the language of Açoka’s pillar inscriptions. They agree as regards the use of l, s, and e, the dentals in palinata and vannīkāhi, yeva after long vowels, and the long vowel before the suffix ka. They disagree in the nominative and accusative plural neuter of a stems, which have āni in the inscriptions as against ā, but that is of no great importance, as these are doublets. The infinitive, however, is in tave, which cannot be equated with taye; Ardha-Māgadhī ttae may be from either.

The Açokan dialect is doubtless the court speech of his kingdom, and a descendant of the Ardha-Māgadhī of Mahāvīra, the founder of the Jain religion, and probably also of the Buddha, whose speech was clearly not akin to the Māgadhī of the grammarians, though it is called Māgadhī in the sacred texts. [158]

The theory of the Nāṭyaçāstra assigns Ardha-Māgadhī as the language of savants, sons of kings or Rājputs, and Çreṣṭhins, rich merchants, but, with the exception of Bhāsa’s Karṇabhāra, it does not appear in the extant dramas. Māgadhī, on the contrary, is required in the case of men who live in the women’s apartments, diggers of underground passages, keepers of drink shops, watchers, the hero himself in time of danger, and the Çakāra. Into which category the Duṣṭa falls is not certain; the Daçarūpa ascribes this Prākrit to low people in general.

Çaurasenī is ascribed to the hetaera by the Çāstra which gives Prācyā or eastern dialect to the Vidūṣaka, but it is clear that the Prācyā is a mere variety of Çaurasenī, from which it differs only in the use of certain expressions. This is borne out by the dramas, in which there is no real distinction between the speech of these two characters. With the Çaurasenī of the grammarians it shows remarkable parallels. It has r in lieu of changing it to l; it reduces the sibilants to s; and for the nominative masculine it has o. Further, it changes kṣ into kkh, not cch; for chard it has chaḍḍ, for mard, madd; for saçrīkam irregularly sassirīkaṁ with the double s despite the epenthetic vowel; and in the third singular future issiti. The gerund kariya is parallel to karia in Hemacandra’s grammar; bhaṭṭā is the vocative of bhartṛ; iyaṁ is feminine as later iaṁ in Çaurasenī alone; bhavāṁ as nominative is comparable with bhavaṁ; bhaṇ is conjugated in the ninth class; viya is parallel to via for iva; and dāni with loss of i as a particle is similar to dāṇiṁ.

In other cases the forms of this Prākrit are clearly older than those of the grammarians’ Çaurasenī. As in the other Prākrits of the drama, there is no softening or omission of intervocalic consonants, and no cerebralization of n. Further, initial y is kept, not reduced to j; the interjection ai in lieu of aï is supported by the language of the Girnār and Udayagiri inscriptions; in nirussāsam we have an older form than ūsasida of Çaurasenī; jñ and ny give ññ, not the later ṇṇ; dy gives yy (written y) for jj; tuvaṁ and tava are both manifestly older than the forms tumaṁ and tuha, while karotha is a remarkable example of the preservation of the old strong base. Old also is the preservation of the long vowel in bhavāṁ. In adaṇḍāraho and the dubious arhessi we have two variants on the rule of Çaurasenī, which has i as the epenthetic vowel in arh, but this merely illustrates the uncertainty of these epentheses; duguṇa in lieu of diuṇa is not older, but a variant mode of treating dviguṇa, and there is no special difficulty in holding that dāṇi and idāṇi are forms which were originally doublets of dāṇiṁ and idāṇiṁ in Çaurasenī, and later were superseded. From other Prākrit passages, presumably in the same Old Çaurasenī, we obtain old forms like vayaṁ, we, and tumhākaṁ in lieu of tumhāṇaṁ; edisa for erisa or īdisa; dissati for dīsadi; gahītaṁ for gahidaṁ; khu is kept after short vowels in lieu of being doubled; a long vowel is kept before tti and such forms as mhi. The future in gamissāma is probably old, while nikkhanta and bambhaṇa admit of this explanation against the later nikkanta and bamhaṇa.

In the words of the hetaera the word surada occurs, with softening of t to d; conceivably the passage might be verse, but in all probability we are merely faced with a sporadic instance of a change which later set in, due perhaps to a copyist’s error; to find in it an evidence of Māhārāṣṭrī would be unwise, especially as the very next word (vimadda) is not in the Māhārāṣṭrī form (vimaḍḍa). In the dialect of the Duṣṭa we have a form makkaṭaho which may be genitive, as in Apabhraṅça, but is not allowed in Māgadhī; but the sense is too uncertain to permit of any security.

The existence and literary use of these Prākrits is most interesting in the history both of the language and the literature, for they present archaic features which place them on the same plane of change as Pāli and the dialects of the older inscriptions. They may be set beside the inscriptions in the Sītābengā and Jogīmārā caves on the Rāmgarh hill, which both show lyric strophes. The influence of the Kāvya style in Sanskrit can be traced obviously in the later Nāsik inscription in Prākrit of the second century A.D., and even in the inscription of Khāravela of Kalin̄ga perhaps in the second century B.C. [159] We cannot, therefore, see any plausibility in the idea of the gradual adaptation of Sanskrit, a sacred language, to belles lettres; on the contrary the dramas show that the Prākrits in literature were already under the influence of the Sanskrit Kāvya.

4. THE METRES

Scanty as the fragments are, they display another feature significant of the development of the drama on the classical lines. The metres employed are very numerous, as is natural in a poetry in which the verse serves essentially the purpose of displaying the skill of the writer. In addition to the Çloka we find the Upajāti (⏓ - ⏑ - - ⏑ ⏑ - ⏑ - -), the Çālinī (- - - -, - ⏑ - - ⏑ - -), Vaṅçasthā (⏑ - ⏑ - - ⏑ ⏑ - ⏑ - ⏑ -), Praharṣiṇī (- - -, ⏑ ⏑ ⏑ ⏑ - ⏑ - ⏑ - -), Vasantatilaka (- - ⏑ - ⏑ ⏑ ⏑ - ⏑ ⏑ - ⏑ - -), Mālinī (⏑ ⏑ ⏑ ⏑ ⏑ ⏑ - -, - ⏑ - - ⏑ - -), Çikhariṇī (⏑ - - - - -, ⏑ ⏑ ⏑ ⏑ ⏑ - - ⏑ ⏑ ⏑ -), Hariṇī (⏑ ⏑ ⏑ ⏑ ⏑ -, - - - -, ⏑ - ⏑ ⏑ - ⏑ -), Çārdūlavikrīḍita (- - - ⏑ ⏑ - ⏑ - ⏑ ⏑ ⏑ -, - - ⏑ - - ⏑ -), Sragdharā (- - - - ⏑ - -, ⏑ ⏑ ⏑ ⏑ ⏑ ⏑ -, - ⏑ - - ⏑ - -), and Suvadanā (- - - - ⏑ - -, ⏑ ⏑ ⏑ ⏑ ⏑ ⏑ -, - - ⏑ ⏑ ⏑ -), the last of these metres being almost a stranger to the drama, though it appears in Bhāsa, in the Mudrārākṣasa, and once in Varāhamihira. The tendency to seek sound effects is clear in a Çikhariṇī verse.

That so many metres of elaborate form should be found is of great interest, not merely as testimony of the early development of the Kāvya literature, but also because we see that the drama as early as Açvaghoṣa, and doubtless long before him, had definitely accepted the verses not as essential elements of the dialogue as are the verses in Greek drama, but as more or less ornamental excursions. In the absence of any complete play we cannot say what proportion of Çlokas was observed by Açvaghoṣa; we may suspect that it was not higher than in Bhāsa, if so high. Now the Çloka by its comparative simplicity and brevity, and by the ease of its structure, might well have served the same purpose in the Indian drama as did the trimeter in that of Greece, and it is curious to speculate what might have been the fate of the drama if it had been felt possible to write it throughout in verse. But evidently by Açvaghoṣa’s age the distinction between prose and stanzas, essentially lyric in type, was fixed, and the elaborate structure of the stanza, normally with four lines of equal length and identic structure, the longer lines having also caesuras, rendered it quite unsuitable as a medium of conversation. Thus early in the drama we find a defect in form which was gradually to become more and more marked and to render the dialogue, that is the essential feature of the drama, less and less the subject of the labours of the dramatists.

IV

BHĀSA

1. THE AUTHENTICITY OF BHĀSA’S DRAMAS

Until 1910 the existence of any drama of Bhāsa’s was unknown in Europe, and only in 1912 appeared under the editorship of T. Gaṇapati Çāstrin, the first of a series of thirteen dramas which their discoverer attributed to that poet. The fact, however, that the dramas themselves are silent as to the authorship rendered careful research necessary to determine their provenance, and the proofs adduced have not won entire satisfaction.

What we knew before the publication of Bhāsa was simply his high reputation. Kālidāsa in his first work, the Mālavikāgnimitra, refers to Bhāsa, with Saumilla, Kaviputra, and others as his great predecessors in the art, whose fame renders difficult the acceptance of the work of an untried author. Bāṇa, [160] at the beginning of the seventh century, states that Bhāsa attained fame by his dramas, begun by the Sūtradhāra, with many rôles and including episodes, as one might by the erection of temples, begun by the architect, with many stages, and beflagged. It would be unwise to prove by this that Bhāsa innovated in these regards; what is essential to Bāṇa is to celebrate Bhāsa’s fame, and to show his wit by the comparison in the same words with some not very obvious object of comparison. A century later Vākpati [161] declares his pleasure in Bhāsa, friend of fire (jalaṇamitte), in the author of the Raghuvaṅça, in Subandhu and Hāricandra. Rājaçekhara (c. A.D. 900) places him among the classical poets, and a verse records a curious incident: ‘Critics cast on the fire, to test it, the discus composed of the dramas of Bhāsa; the Svapnavāsavadattā did not succumb to the flames’. [162] The verse, however, contains a double entendre strangely ignored by Professor Konow; [163] it denotes of course the superiority of the Svapnavāsavadattā to the other dramas of Bhāsa—a fact which the published plays bear out to the full—but it also alludes to a reason; the play itself contains a fire, which was feigned by the minister to permit the possibility of the king’s new marriage, and it is only appropriate that, as that fire could not burn the queen, so the fire which tried the play was unable to prevail against it. The passage throws the necessary light on the term ‘friend of fire’ of Vākpati, which should not be rendered meaningless by attributing it to the fact that Bhāsa often mentions fire in his dramas.

These facts are, it must at once be admitted, extremely favourable to the authenticity of the dramas; taken all in all they are clearly the work of a very considerable writer; in technique they are less finished than those of Kālidāsa; the Prākrit is clearly earlier than that of the works of Kālidāsa or the Mṛcchakaṭikā; the Svapnavāsavadattā is clearly the best, and it explains Vākpati and Rājaçekhara’s references. Bāṇa’s statement regarding the opening of the plays by the Sūtradhāra is proved by the dramas. There is also substantial evidence to be derived from the writers on rhetoric. Bhāmaha, who may belong to the beginning of the eighth century A.D., criticizes severely the plot of the Pratijñāyaugandharāyaṇa; Vāmana, in the eighth, cites from that play, the Svapnavāsavadattā, and the Cārudatta; Abhinavagupta (c. A.D. 1000) twice names the Svapnavāsavadattā, and mentions the Cārudatta. These references are not in themselves conclusive, for they do not mention Bhāsa as the author of the plays, even when these are named, [164] and not merely cited from or discussed, but they show that the critics knew and were prepared to cite these dramas, which means that they accepted the view that they were by an important author. The ascription of the Svapnavāsavadattā to Bhāsa gives us the right to accept his authorship of the rest if internal evidence supports it. That this is so is undeniable, even by those who suspect the attribution to Bhāsa; the coincidences in technique, in the Prākrits, in metre, and in style are overwhelming. Finally, there is the evidence of the Cārudatta; it is undeniably and obviously the prototype of the Mṛcchakaṭikā, and it proves, therefore, that the dramas are older than that work which was well known by Vāmana, and is certainly a good deal earlier.

The arguments [165] against the authenticity are all inconclusive. They are based on the fact that a drama, Mattavilāsa, of Mahendravikramavarman, of the seventh century A.D. presents the same characteristics as regards the form of opening the drama as the plays of Bhāsa, and the suggestion that Rājasiṅha is to be identified with a prince of the south of that name (c. A.D. 675). The evidence is clearly inadequate; Bhāsa’s fame was evidently more prevalent in the south than in the north, for a scene from one of his plays has survived in a mutilated form in the popular theatre there, and it is easy to understand how a seventh-century writer imitated him in technique. Moreover, the imitation is very partial; the omission of the name of the author and the play is not followed, and this is certainly a sign of a later date for the Mattavilāsa. The guess regarding the identification of the king is without probative force, for the term seems deliberately vague, and is in keeping with the silence of the author regarding his own name and that of his drama. The introduction of immediate reality is incongruous, and, therefore, avoided.

2. THE DATE OF BHĀSA’S DRAMAS

It is difficult to arrive at any precise determination of Bhāsa’s date. That Kālidāsa knew his fame as firmly established is clear, and, if we may fairly safely date Kālidāsa about A.D. 400, this gives us a period of not later than A.D. 350 for Bhāsa. The fact of his priority to the Mṛcchakaṭikā leads us to no definite result, for the view that this play is to be placed before Kālidāsa in the third century A.D. is not at all plausible. An upper limit is given by the fact that Bhāsa is doubtless later than Açvaghoṣa, whose Buddhacarita is probably the source of a verse in the Pratijñāyaugandharāyaṇa, and whose Prākrit is assuredly and unquestionably older in character. It is useless to seek to estimate by the evidence of the Prākrit whether Bhāsa is more closely allied in date to Kālidāsa than to Açvaghoṣa, because changes in speech and the representation of them in literature are matters which do not in the slightest degree permit of exact valuation in terms of years. The most that can be said is that it may be held without improbability that Bhāsa is nearer to Kālidāsa’s period than to Açvaghoṣa’s.

An effort at more exact determination is made by Professor Konow [166] on the ground that Bhāsa’s dramas in part deal with the story of Udayana, of which Ujjayinī was specially fond, as we know from Kālidāsa. Hence we may assume that the home of the poet was Ujjayinī, an assumption which obviously is not legitimate in any degree. Further we may assume that he lived under one of the Western Kṣatrapas, which again goes too far. Now the usual ending of a drama is not regularly observed in Bhāsa’s dramas; the introductory question is found only in the Avimāraka, Pratijñāyaugandharāyaṇa, Bālacarita, and Dūtavākya. The description of the final benediction as Bharatavākya is omitted in the Madhyamavyāyoga, where Viṣṇu is praised; in the Dūtaghaṭotkaca, where his commands are given; in the Pañcarātra, where the wish is expressed that the king (rājasiṅha) should rule the whole earth; and in the Ūrubhan̄ga, where the wish is that the prince should conquer his foes and rule the earth. In the other plays a change of form of the Bharatavākya is asserted; in the Karṇabhāra there is the desire for the disappearance of misfortune; in the Pratimānāṭaka the wish is that the king may fare as Rāma who was reunited with Sītā and his kinsmen; in the Avimāraka, the Abhiṣekanāṭaka, and the Pratijñāyaugandharāyaṇa, that the king should, after destroying his foes, rule the whole earth, while in the Svapnavāsavadattā, Dūtavākya, and Bālacarita, the wish is for universal rule. This suggests that for a time the king reigned in peace; then enemies arose and disturbed his power; finally he again won the upper hand, and his friends could without absurdity pray for his attaining imperial rank. This would agree with the history of the Kṣatrapa Rudrasiṅha, who held from 181–8, and again from A.D. 191–6 the high rank of Mahākṣatrapa, and whose name may be hinted at in the use of the term rājasiṅha. That the Pratijñāyaugandharāyaṇa is older than the Svapnavāsavadattā is held to support this suggestion, but it is clearly without any merit save ingenuity.

Nor is there more to be said for Konow’s other suggestions of date; the fact that the term Nāṭaka is used, and that the Vidūṣaka appears, cannot show that he is early, for they are used on continuously to the latest days of the drama, and the view that Bhāsa was an innovator who shortened the preliminaries, which is given as a reason for making him early, because the Nāṭyaçāstra gives the preliminaries in detail, is abandoned sub silentio in the author’s later work, [167] where it is candidly admitted that we do not know whether he shortened the preliminaries at all. Nor can we say anything regarding his relation to the Nāṭyaçāstra which will aid us to a date; there is even a tradition that he himself wrote on the theory of the drama. Nor can any weight be attached to the view that Bhāsa stands nearer Açvaghoṣa in technique than Kālidāsa; these matters do not permit of precise evaluation in time, and, if we place Bhāsa about A.D. 300, we go as far as the evidence allows.

3. THE DRAMAS AND THEIR SOURCES

The derivation of the drama in part from epic recitations is peculiarly clear in Bhāsa, who shows the influence of the two great epics in its clearest form. In the Madhyamavyāyoga [168] we have a reminiscence of the tale of the love of the demon Hiḍimbā for Bhīma, the third of the five Pāṇḍavas, and their marriage which has Ghaṭotkaca as its fruit, though the parents part. The play opens with preliminary rites, after which the director pronounces a benediction on the audience, and begins to address them, but is suddenly interrupted by a sound, which is revealed as the cry of a Brahmin, who with his three sons and his wife is being pursued by the demon Ghaṭotkaca. The demon has received orders from his mother to bring her a victim; he offers, therefore, to spare the rest of the family, if one is willing to go with him, and the midmost, Madhyama, of the sons decides to go, though there is a generous rivalry among the three in self-sacrifice. He asks, however, time to go to perform a rite of purification, and, as he tarries, the demon in anger calls aloud for him. Bhīma responds, as the midmost of the Pāṇḍavas; he will go in the boy’s place, but not by force. The demon, not knowing his father, seeks to compel him, but, failing, accepts his offer to go willingly. Hiḍimbā greets her husband with joy, and reproaches her son and bids him express regret. She explains that her demand was made expressly to win for her a visit from Bhīma, who suggests that they should all accompany the aged Brahmin and his family to their destination, and with a verse in praise of Viṣṇu the piece ends.

Ghaṭotkaca is again the leading figure of the Dūtaghaṭotkaca, which may also be classed as a Vyāyoga, a term indicating primarily a military spectacle. The Kurus are jubilant over the defeat of Abhimanyu, Arjuna’s son, at the hands of Jayadratha, though Dhṛtarāṣṭra warns them of the dangers that overshadow them. Ghaṭotkaca appears to them and predicts their punishment at the hands of Arjuna. Of the same general type apparently is the Karṇabhāra which deals with Karṇa’s armour; he makes himself ready for his fight with Arjuna, and tells Çalya, the Madra king, of the trick by which he won it from the great Paraçurāma, though the latter retaliated for the deception by the curse that the arms should fail him in the hour of his need. The curse is fulfilled, for Indra comes in the guise of a Brahmin and obtains from Karṇa his weapons and earrings. Karṇa and Çalya go out to battle, and the sound of Arjuna’s chariot is heard. In the Ūrubhan̄ga the fight between Bhīma and Duryodhana, greatest of the Kurus, ends in the breaking of the thigh of the latter, who falls in agony; his son comes to him in his childish way, but his father is fain to save him the sorrow of his plight. His parents and wives surround him; he seeks to comfort them; Açvatthāman swears vengeance despite his counsels of peace; visions of his brothers and Apsarases float before him, and he passes away.

These four plays have each but one Act; the Pañcarātra, on the other hand, has three, and may perhaps be classed as a Samavakāra, in so far at least as it is a drama in which there are more heroes of sorts than one, and they more or less attain their ends, which seem to be the chief features of that dubious kind of play in the theory. It reflects the period when efforts are being made to save the Kurus and the Pāṇḍavas from the fatal conflict, which ends in the ruin of the former and grave loss to the latter. Droṇa has undertaken a sacrifice for Duryodhana, and seeks as the fee the grant to the Pāṇḍavas of half the realm to which they had a just claim. Duryodhana promises on condition that they are heard of within five days. Virāṭa, however, is missing from those present at the offering; he has to mourn the loss of a hundred [169] Kīcakas. Bhīṣma suspects that Bhīma must be at the bottom of this illhap, and on his instigation at the end of Act II it is decided to raid Virāṭa’s cows, as he hopes thus to bring the facts to light. The foray, however, fails, for the Pāṇḍavas are with Virāṭa in disguise; Abhimanyu is taken prisoner and married to Virāṭa’s daughter. The charioteer in Act III brings back the news, showing clearly that Arjuna and Bhīma have taken part in the contest, but none the less Duryodhana decides to keep faith.

The Dūtavākya, a Vyāyoga in one act, is again from the Mahābhārata, but deals with the Kṛṣṇa legend. Bhīṣma is made chief of the Kuru forces; the arrival of Nārāyaṇa is announced, but Duryodhana forbids that any honour be shown to him, and seats himself before a picture, in which is depicted the indignity shown to Draupadī, when her husband gambled her away at dice. Kṛṣṇa enters, making a deep impression on all by his majesty; even Duryodhana falls from his seat. The messenger demands the half of the realm for the Pāṇḍavas; Duryodhana refuses and seeks to bind the envoy. Enraged, he calls for his magic weapons, but finally he consents to lay aside his wrath, and receives the homage of Dhṛtarāṣṭra. It is interesting to note that the play, in describing the picture, omits any allusion to the miracle by which in the epic Kṛṣṇa himself is represented as providing the unhappy Draupadī with fresh raiment as soon as each garment is dragged from her in insult. But it would be extremely unwise to assume with Professor Winternitz [170] that this fact proves that Bhāsa did not know of this episode, and that it was interpolated after his time in the epic. Obviously it would have ruined the effect of the picture if such a fact had been hinted at in it, apart from the difficulty of exhibiting this by the painter’s art, and Bhāsa is clearly justified on artistic grounds in allowing this episode to be passed over.

Of far greater importance is the Bālacarita, [171] which presents us with a lively and vivid picture of the feats of Kṛṣṇa, culminating in the slaying of Kaṅsa, a brilliant exemplification of the value of Patañjali’s evidence as to the growth of drama. The director enters, pronounces a verse of benediction asking the favour of the god, who is Nārāyaṇa, Viṣṇu, Rāma, and Kṛṣṇa in the four ages of the world; he announces the advent of the sage Nārada and retires. Nārada explains that he has come from the heaven to gaze on the young Kṛṣṇa, born in the family of the Vṛṣṇis as son of Devakī and Vasudeva, who is in truth Nārāyaṇa incarnate to destroy Kaṅsa. He sees the infant, pays homage, and departs. Devakī and Vasudeva appear on the stage; they have joy in the birth of a son, but terror, for Kaṅsa has slain already six sons of theirs and will slay the seventh—a deviation in number from our other sources which make Kṛṣṇa the eighth child. Vasudeva takes the infant and decides to remove it from Kaṅsa’s reach. He leaves the city, but the child’s weight is as colossal as that of Mount Mandara; the darkness is impenetrable, but a marvellous light comes from the child, and the Yamunā makes dry a path for him to cross. The spirit of the tree under which he rests brings to him the cowherd Nanda, bearing a dead maiden, an infant just borne by his wife Yaçodā, who, fallen in a faint, does not know whether the child is a boy or a girl. Nanda gives aid reluctantly, but in memory of past favours. He seeks first to purify himself from contact with the dead, but a spring of water shoots forth and renders labour needless. He takes the boy, but his weight proves too great. Now appear in the guise of herdsmen the weapons of Kṛṣṇa and his steed, who present themselves each with a verse, ‘I am the bird, Garuḍa,’ &c., ‘I am the discus’, ‘I the bow’, ‘I the club’, ‘I the conch’, and ‘I the sword’. At the request of the discus the infant consents to become light, and Nanda bears him away. Vasudeva finds the dead child awakened to life in his arms, and the weight of it is oppressive, but the Yamunā once more gives dry passage, and he returns to Mathurā and Devakī. Act II opens with an entr’acte in Kaṅsa’s palace. The curse pronounced on him by the seer Madhuka enters, guised as a Caṇḍāla in hateful form with a necklace of skulls; he and his retinue of Caṇḍālīs force their way into the heart of the palace; the royal fortune, Rājaçrī, would bar their way, but the curse announces that it is Viṣṇu’s will that he enter, and she yields; the curse seizes then hold of Kaṅsa. The Act then presents Kaṅsa uneasy and distressed by the portents of the night; he summons his astrologer and his domestic priests, who warn him that the portents presage the birth of a god. Kaṅsa has Vasudeva summoned, is told of the birth of a daughter, refuses to spare the child, and hurls it against a rock. But part only of the lifeless body falls to earth; the rest rises to heaven, and the dread figure of the goddess Kārtyāyanī appears to the king. Her retinue come also, announcing each his advent with a verse, and declare their purpose to destroy Kaṅsa. In the meantime, in herdsmen’s guise they will go to the home of the child to share in the sports of the herdsmen.

The entr’acte before Act III tells us in the mouths of the herdsmen of their joys since Kṛṣṇa came to live with them, and an old man relates in a long Prākrit speech his wonderful deeds, including the destruction of the demons, Pūtanā, Çakaṭa, Yamala and Arjuna, Pralamba, Dhenuka, and Keçin. We are told then that Kṛṣṇa or Dāmodara, the name won from an adventure, has gone to the Vṛndā wood for the Hallīçaka dance; the dance is performed by Dāmodara, his friends, and the maidens, to the music of the drum and to song. The advent of the demon Ariṣṭa is announced; Dāmodara bids the maidens and herdsmen mount a hill, and watch the struggle. It proves unequal; the bull demon recognizes the superiority of his foe, and that he is Viṣṇu himself, and meets death with resignation. The victory accomplished, the news is brought of a new danger, the snake Kāliya has appeared on the Yamunā bank, menacing cows and Brahmins. Act IV shows us the maidens seeking to restrain Kṛṣṇa from the new struggle, but he persists and overcomes the demon, plunging into the waters to grapple with him. He brings him out, learns that he had entered the waters in fear of Garuḍa who slays snakes at pleasure, makes him promise to spare cows and Brahmins, and puts on him a mark that Garuḍa must respect. A herald then enters to challenge Dāmodara and his brother Balarāma to the festival of the boys at Mathurā.