LAWRENCE: (Authoritatively.) Sher Singh, we need a velvet covering for this divan. Purple colour. (Goes near the divan and points to the covering.) This one looks like a rag.
(Proudly.)
This is the Residency. We must be dignified. We are going to hold Darbar today.
SHER SINGH: Darbar?
LAWRENCE: (A bit uncomfortable.) Yes, you know, the Council meeting.
SHER SINGH: But we’ve been having Council meetings here in the past. We haven’t needed coverings before?
LAWRENCE: We’re going to have them from now. It will be fitting!
SHER SINGH: (Dubiously.) I suppose so.
LAWRENCE: And some velvet cushions too. Same colour. Both the covering and the cushions must have gold work. That will improve the effect, won’t it?
SHER SINGH: (Dubiously.) I suppose so.
LAWRENCE: And have my initials, H.L., put in gold on them.
SHER SINGH: (With a mock flourish, bowing exaggeratedly.) Yes, Your Most Eminent Highness.
LAWRENCE: We’ll also need a mattress to put on the floor for the Sardars.
SHER SINGH: (Pointing to the divan.) They won’t sit here as usual?
LAWRENCE: No, I think they should sit below.
SHER SINGH: (Seriously.) The Sardars won’t like it, sir.
LAWRENCE: They’ll have to.
SHER SINGH: They only recognize His Highness Dalip Singh, sir.
LAWRENCE: (Softly.) I’m not asking them to recognize me as their ruler.
SHER SINGH: (Uncomfortably.) What does this Darbar mean then?
LAWRENCE: You don’t understand, Sher Singh. (Moving around the room, thinking aloud.)
… Now, let’s see. The divan should go over there. Perhaps a bit more to the right. That’s the way to rule India … with dignity. I must also get the Residency’s exterior lifted a bit. Yes, Indians like colour, pageant, style. They respect it. That’s authority for them. This place looks like a barrack—no wonder they think us odd. They like to be ruled through the heart; we rule through the head. They like to be dealt with at the personal level; our basis of administration is impersonal law. They respect tact; our laws and settlements are crudely blunt. You can’t change a people’s view of the world just like that: Particularly if they’ve just lost a war … You’ve got to be careful. You’ve got to make them forget they’ve lost a war …
(Long, dreamy pause. Sher Singh looks on uncomfortably.)
SHER SINGH: Larins, why have you had the Wazir arrested?
LAWRENCE: Because he was behind the firing at the Shah’ alami Gate.
SHER SINGH: Larins, you’re asking for trouble. Have him released at once. He’s a powerful man. He can make life difficult for you.
LAWRENCE: Sher Singh, are you afraid?
SHER SINGH: No.
LAWRENCE: Wasn’t he behind the incident?
SHER SINGH: Yes, he was. The firing was just to divert attention from the attempted kidnapping at the Palace. At the last minute, they lost track of Dalip.
LAWRENCE: How?
SHER SINGH: No one knows. When they found they’d failed they laid a bait for me. They offered to make me the Wazir if I’d hand over the Koh-i-noor.
LAWRENCE: How did they know?
SHER SINGH: The know.
LAWRENCE: (Smiling.) Don’t you want to be the Wazir?
SHER SINGH: What?
LAWRENCE: It’s a tempting thought.
SHER SINGH: I respect friendship more.
(Pause.)
Larins, please return the jewel to the Rani.
LAWRENCE: Why?
SHER SINGH: Because it will only bring trouble.
LAWRENCE: Are you afraid of trouble?
SHER SINGH: No. But I don’t seek it.
LAWRENCE: (Laughs.) Come on, let’s go. The people must be waiting. It’s time for Court.
(Lights fade. Lawrence and Sher Singh move across to stage right.)
Act Two Scene 5
As lights come on, Lawrence is found seated cross-legged on a divan. Sher Singh is at his side. The people are at a respectful distance. The ragged gathering includes peasants, beggars, crying children, brahmins, shopkeepers, etc. The assembly has the look of a Diwan-e-Am, the People’s Darbar, and Lawrence appears to be quite pleased with himself as he sits enjoying the role of a king dispensing justice. Sher Singh and his incongruously rich robes add to the baroque effect.
OLD WOMAN: (Pleading.) Hazur Sahib! Larins Sahib! I have a sick child in my arms. Can you help me? You will live a thousand years. Please help him!
FIRST BRAHMIN: Don’t push. I want to see what’s happening.
SECOND BRAHMIN: I’m not pushing.
OLD WOMAN: (Wailing.) Larins Sahib, help my sick child. May you walk on lakhs …
SHER SINGH: (Abruptly.) Bibi, this is a court of Law, not a hospital. Next case!
OLD WOMAN: (Pleading.) But what can I do, sir? My child—it will die.
SHER SINGH: (Annoyed.) Bibi, what can we do? Next case!
LAWRENCE: (Producing a small purse.) Her child’s sick, is it?
SHER SINGH: Yes.
LAWRENCE: Give her this and tell her to go to the doctor for medicine.
(Sher Singh does so. Speaks softly to her. She leaves, bowing low and shouting: ‘May you live a thousand years, Larins Sahib.’)
SHER SINGH: Next case! Are all you sons of swine asleep? Come on. Next case!
(The Prosecutor motions two saffron-robed brahmins to come forward. Then he digs into the crowd and comes out leading a lean, fair, young girl in a white sari. Her face is partially hidden by the end of her sari, which covers her head as well. Sher Singh nudges Lawrence.) That’s it! Let’s have more of this.
(Lawrence looks reproachfully at Sher Singh.)
Begin the case, fool! Do you think we’re waiting for your grandson to be conceived?
PROSECUTOR: (Authoritatively.) These brahmins, Your Excellency, (the brahmins bow) complain that this woman did not commit sati, according to tradition, when her husband died last month.
SHER SINGH: What punishment do you demand?
PROSECUTOR: Your Excellency, she should be burned alive, according to the custom.
SHER SINGH: Well, Larins Sahib, I think that’s fair.
LAWRENCE: What’s fair?
SHER SINGH: That she should be burned.
LAWRENCE: Why?
SHER SINGH: Because it’s the custom.
LAWRENCE: What does she have to say?
SHER SINGH: What do you have to say, Bibi?
(No answer. He speaks more gruffly.)
Speak, woman. What do you say, commands the Angrez Badshah.
(No answer. He speaks to the
