shakuntala_ryder.pdf part 2

Door-keeper. Yes, your Majesty. (He goes out, then returns with the youths.) Follow me. First youth (looking at the king). A majestic presence, yet it inspires confidence. Nor is this wonderful in a king who is half a saint. For to him The splendid palace serves as hermitage; His royal government, courageous, sage, Adds daily to his merit; it is given To him to win applause from choirs of heaven Whose anthems to his glory rise and swell, Proclaiming him a king, and saint as well. Second youth. My friend, is this Dushyanta, friend of Indra? First youth. It is. Second youth. Nor is it wonderful that one whose arm Might bolt a city gate, should keep from harm The whole broad earth dark-belted by the sea; For when the gods in heaven with demons fight, DushyantaÕs bow and IndraÕs weapon bright Are their reliance for the victory. The two youths (approaching). Victory, O King! King (rising). I salute you. The two youths. All hail! (They offer fruit.) King (receiving it and bowing low). May I know the reason of your coming? The two youths. The hermits have learned that you are here, and they requestÑ King. They command rather. The two youths. The powers of evil disturb our pious life in the absence of the hermit-father. We therefore ask that you will remain a few nights with your charioteer to protect the hermitage. King. I shall be most happy to do so. Clown (to the king). You rather seem to like being collared this way. King. Raivataka, tell my charioteer to drive up, and to bring the bow and arrows. Raivataka. Yes, your Majesty. (Exit.) The two youths. 23.

Thou art a worthy scion of The kings who ruled our nation And found, defending those in need, Their truest consecration. King. Pray go before. And I will follow straightway. The two youths. Victory, O King! (Exeunt.) King. Madhavya, have you no curiosity to see Shakuntala? Clown. I did have an unending curiosity, but this talk about the powers of evil has put an end to it. King. Do not fear. You will be with me. Clown. IÕll stick close to your chariot-wheel. (Enter the door-keeper.) Door-keeper. Your Majesty, the chariot is ready, and awaits your departure to victory. But one Karabhaka has come from the city, a messenger from the queen-mother. King (respectfully). Sent by my mother? Door-keeper. Yes. King. Let him enter. Door-keeper (goes out and returns with Karabhaka). Karabhaka, here is his Majesty. You may draw near. Karabhaka (approaching and bowing low). Victory to your Majesty. The queen-mother sends her commandsÑ King. What are her commands? Karabhaka. She plans to end a fasting ceremony on the fourth day from to-day. And on that occasion her dear son must not fail to wait upon her. King. On the one side is my duty to the hermits, on the other my motherÕs command. Neither may be disregarded. What is to be done? Clown (laughing). Stay half-way between, like Trishanku. King. In truth, I am perplexed. Two inconsistent duties sever My mind with cruel shock, As when the current of a river Is split upon a rock. (He reflects.) My friend, the queen-mother has always felt toward you as toward a son. Do you return, tell her what duty keeps me here, and yourself perform the offices of a son. Clown. You donÕt think I am afraid of the devils? 24.

King (smiling). O mighty Brahman, who could suspect it? Clown. But I want to travel like a prince. King. I will send all the soldiers with you, for the pious grove must not be disturbed. Clown (strutting). Aha! Look at the heir-apparent! King (to himself). The fellow is a chatterbox. He might betray my longing to the ladies of the palace. Good, then! (He takes the clown by the hand. Aloud.) Friend Madhavya, my reverence for the hermits draws me to the hermitage. Do not think that I am really in love with the hermit-girl. Just think: A king, and a girl of the calm hermit-grove, Bred with the fawns, and a stranger to love! Then do not imagine a serious quest; The light words I uttered were spoken in jest. Clown. Oh, I understand that well enough. (Exeunt ambo.) 25.

ACT III THE LOVE-MAKING (Enter a pupil, with sacred grass for the sacrifice.) Pupil (with meditative astonishment). How great is the power of King Dushyanta! Since his arrival our rites have been undisturbed. He does not need to bend the bow; For every evil thing, Awaiting not the arrow, flees From the twanging of the string. Well, I will take this sacred grass to the priests, to strew the altar. (He walks and looks about, then speaks to some one not visible.) Priyamvada, for whom are you carrying this cuscus-salve and the fibrous lotus-leaves? (He listens.) What do you say? That Shakuntala has become seriously ill from the heat, and that these things are to relieve her suffering? Give her the best of care, Priyamvada. She is the very life of the hermit-father. And I will give Gautami the holy water for her. (Exit. Enter the lovelorn king.) King (with a meditative sigh). I know that stern religionÕs power Keeps guardian watch my maiden oÕer; Yet all my heart flows straight to her Like water to the valley-floor. Oh, mighty Love, thine arrows are made of flowers. How can they be so sharp? (He recalls something.) Ah, I understand. ShivaÕs devouring wrath still burns in thee, As burns the eternal fire beneath the sea; Else how couldst thou, thyself long since consumed, Kindle the fire that flames so ruthlessly? 26.

Indeed, the moon and thou inspire confidence, only to deceive the host of lovers. Thy shafts are blossoms; coolness streams From moon-rays: thus the poets sing; But to the lovelorn, falsehood seems To lurk in such imagining; The moon darts fire from frosty beams; Thy flowery arrows cut and sting. And yet If Love will trouble her Whose great eyes madden me, I greet him unafraid, Though wounded ceaselessly. O mighty god, wilt thou not show me mercy after such reproaches? With tenderness unending I cherished thee when small, In vainÑthy bow is bending; On me thine arrows fall. My care for thee to such a plight Has brought me; and it serves me right. I have driven off the powers of evil, and the hermits have dismissed me. Where shall I go now to rest from my weariness? (He sighs.) There is no rest for me except in seeing her whom I love. (He looks up.) She usually spends these hours of midday heat with her friends on the vine wreathed banks of the Malini. I will go there. (He walks and looks about.) I believe the slender maiden has just passed through this corridor of young trees. For The stems from which she gathered flowers Are still unhealed; The sap where twigs were broken off Is uncongealed. (He feels a breeze stirring.) This is a pleasant spot, with the wind among the trees. Limbs that loveÕs fever seizes, Their fervent welcome pay To lotus-fragrant breezes 27.

That bear the river-spray. (He studies the ground.) Ah, Shakuntala must be in this reedy bower. For In white sand at the door Fresh footprints appear, The toe lightly outlined, The heel deep and clear. I will hide among the branches, and see what happens. (He does so. Joyfully.) Ah, my eyes have found their heaven. Here is the darling of my thoughts, lying upon a flower strewn bench of stone, and attended by her two friends. I will hear what they say to each other. (He stands gazing. Enter Shakuntala with her two friends.) The two friends (fanning her). Do you feel better, dear, when we fan you with these lotus-leaves? Shakuntala (wearily). Oh, are you fanning me, my dear girls? (The two friends look sorrowfully at each other.) King. She is seriously ill. (Doubtfully.) Is it the heat, or is it as I hope? (Decidedly.) It must be so. With salve upon her breast, With loosened lotus-chain, My darling, sore oppressed, Is lovely in her pain. Though love and summer heat May work an equal woe, No maiden seems so sweet When summer lays her low. Priyamvada (aside to Anusuya). Anusuya, since she first saw the good king, she has been greatly troubled. I do not believe her fever has any other cause. Anusuya. I suspect you are right. I am going to ask her. My dear, I must ask you something. You are in a high fever. King. It is too true. Her lotus-chains that were as white As moonbeams shining in the night, Betray the feverÕs awful pain, And fading, show a darker stain. Shakuntala (half rising.) Well, say whatever you like. 28.

Anusuya. Shakuntala dear, you have not told us what is going on in your mind. But I have heard old, romantic stories, and I canÕt help thinking that you are in a state like that of a lady in love. Please tell us what hurts you. We have to understand the disease before we can even try to cure it. King. Anusuya expresses my own thoughts. Shakuntala. It hurts me terribly. I canÕt tell you all at once. Priyamvada. Anusuya is right, dear. Why do you hide your trouble? You are wasting away every day. You are nothing but a beautiful shadow. King. Priyamvada is right. See! Her cheeks grow thin; her breast and shoulders fail; Her waist is weary and her face is pale: She fades for love; oh, pitifully sweet! As vine-leaves wither in the scorching heat. Shakuntala (sighing). I could not tell any one else. But I shall be a burden to you. The two friends. That is why we insist on knowing, dear. Grief must be shared to be endured. King. To friends who share her joy and grief She tells what sorrow laid her here; She turned to look her love again When first I saw herÑyet I fear! Shakuntala. Ever since I saw the good king who protects the pious groveÑ (She stops and fidgets.) The two friends. Go on, dear. Shakuntala. I love him, and it makes me feel like this. The two friends. Good, good! You have found a lover worthy of your devotion. But of course, a great river always runs into the sea. King (joyfully). I have heard what I longed to hear. ÕTwas love that caused the burning pain; ÕTis love that eases it again; As when, upon a sultry day, Rain breaks, and washes grief away. 29.

Shakuntala. Then, if you think best, make the good king take pity upon me. If not, remember that I was. King. Her words end all doubt. Priyamvada (aside to Anusuya). Anusuya, she is far gone in love and cannot endure any delay. Anusuya. Priyamvada, can you think of any scheme by which we could carry out her wishes quickly and secretly? Priyamvada. We must plan about the Òsecretly.Ó The ÒquicklyÓ is not hard. Anusuya. How so? Priyamvada. Why, the good king shows his love for her in his tender glances, and he has been wasting away, as if he were losing sleep. King. It is quite true. The hot tears, flowing down my cheek All night on my supporting arm And on its golden bracelet, seek To stain the gems and do them harm. The bracelet slipping oÕer the scars Upon the wasted arm, that show My deeds in hunting and in wars, All night is moving to and fro. Priyamvada (reflecting). Well, she must write him a love-letter. And I will hide it in a bunch of flowers and see that it gets into the kingÕs hand as if it were a relic of the sacrifice. Anusuya. It is a pretty plan, dear, and it pleases me. What does Shakuntala say? Shakuntala. I suppose I must obey orders. Priyamvada. Then compose a pretty little love-song, with a hint of yourself in it. Shakuntala. IÕll try. But my heart trembles, for fear he will despise me. King. Here stands the eager lover, and you pale For fear lest he disdain a love so kind: The seeker may find fortune, or may fail; But how could fortune, seeking, fail to find? And again: 30.

The ardent lover comes, and yet you fear Lest he disdain loveÕs tribute, were it brought, The hope of which has led his footsteps hereÑ Pearls need not seek, for they themselves are sought. The two friends. You are too modest about your own charms. Would anybody put up a parasol to keep off the soothing autumn moonlight? Shakuntala (smiling). I suppose I shall have to obey orders. (She meditates.) King. It is only natural that I should forget to wink when I see my darling. For One clinging eyebrow lifted, As fitting words she seeks, Her face reveals her passion For me in glowing cheeks. Shakuntala. Well, I have thought out a little song. But I havenÕt anything to write with. Priyamvada. Here is a lotus-leaf, glossy as a parrotÕs breast. You can cut the letters in it with your nails. Shakuntala. Now listen, and tell me whether it makes sense. The two friends. Please. Shakuntala (reads). I know not if I read your heart aright; Why, pitiless, do you distress me so? I only know that longing day and night Tosses my restless body to and fro, That yearns for you, the source of all its woe. King (advancing). Though Love torments you, slender maid, Yet he consumes me quite, As daylight shuts night-blooming flowers And slays the moon outright. The two friends (perceive the king and rise joyfully). Welcome to the wish that is fulfilled without delay. (Shakuntala tries to rise.) King. Do not try to rise, beautiful Shakuntala. Your limbs from which the strength is fled, That crush the blossoms of your bed 31.

And bruise the lotus-leaves, may be Pardoned a breach of courtesy. Shakuntala (sadly to herself). Oh, my heart, you were so impatient, and now you find no answer to make. Anusuya. Your Majesty, pray do this stone bench the honour of sitting upon it. (Shakuntala edges away.) King (seating himself). Priyamvada, I trust your friendÕs illness is not dangerous. Priyamvada (smiling). A remedy is being applied and it will soon be better. It is plain, sir, that you and she love each other. But I love her too, and I must say something over again. King. Pray do not hesitate. It always causes pain in the end, to leave unsaid what one longs to say. Priyamvada. Then listen, sir. King. I am all attention. Priyamvada. It is the kingÕs duty to save hermit-folk from all suffering. Is not that good Scripture? King. There is no text more urgent. Priyamvada. Well, our friend has been brought to this sad state by her love for you. Will you not take pity on her and save her life? King. We cherish the same desire. I feel it a great honour. Shakuntala (with a jealous smile). Oh, donÕt detain the good king. He is separated from the court ladies, and he is anxious to go back to them. King. Bewitching eyes that found my heart, You surely see It could no longer live apart, Nor faithless be. I bear LoveÕs arrows as I can; Wound not with doubt a wounded man. Anusuya. But, your Majesty, we hear that kings have many favourites. You must act in such a way that our friend may not become a cause of grief to her family. King. What more can I say? Though many queens divide my court, But two support the throne; 32.

Your friend will find a rival in The sea-girt earth alone. The two friends. We are content. (Shakuntala betrays her joy.) Priyamvada (aside to Anusuya). Look, Anusuya! See how the dear girlÕs life is coming back moment by moment just like a peahen in summer when the first rainy breezes come. Shakuntala. You must please ask the kingÕs pardon for the rude things we said when we were talking together. The two friends (smiling). Anybody who says it was rude, may ask his pardon. Nobody else feels guilty. Shakuntala. Your Majesty, pray forgive what we said when we did not know that you were present. I am afraid that we say a great many things behind a personÕs back. King (smiling). Your fault is pardoned if I may Relieve my weariness By sitting on the flower-strewn couch Your fevered members press. Priyamvada. But that will not be enough to satisfy him. Shakuntala (feigning anger). Stop! You are a rude girl. You make fun of me when I am in this condition. Anusuya (looking out of the arbour). Priyamvada, there is a little fawn, looking all about him. He has probably lost his mother and is trying to find her. I am going to help him. Priyamvada. He is a frisky little fellow. You canÕt catch him alone. IÕll go with you. (They start to go.) Shakuntala. I will not let you go and leave me alone. The two friends (smiling). You alone, when the king of the world is with you! (Exeunt.) Shakuntala. Are my friends gone? King (looking about). Do not be anxious, beautiful Shakuntala. Have you not a humble servant here, to take the place of your friends? Then tell me: Shall I employ the moistened lotus-leaf To fan away your weariness and grief? Or take your lily feet upon my knee 33.

And rub them till you rest more easily? Shakuntala. I will not offend against those to whom I owe honour. (She rises weakly and starts to walk away.) King (detaining her). The day is still hot, beautiful Shakuntala, and you are feverish. Leave not the blossom-dotted couch To wander in the midday heat, With lotus-petals on your breast, With fevered limbs and stumbling feet. (He lays his hand upon her.) Shakuntala. Oh, donÕt! DonÕt! For I am not mistress of myself. Yet what can I do now? I had no one to help me but my friends. King. I am rebuked. Shakuntala. I was not thinking of your Majesty. I was accusing fate. King. Why accuse a fate that brings what you desire? Shakuntala. Why not accuse a fate that robs me of self control and tempts me with the virtues of another? King (to himself). Though deeply longing, maids are coy And bid their wooers wait; Though eager for united joy In love, they hesitate. Love cannot torture them, nor move Their hearts to sudden mating; Perhaps they even torture love By their procrastinating. (Shakuntala moves away.) King. Why should I not have my way? (He approaches and seizes her dress.) Shakuntala. Oh, sir! Be a gentleman. There are hermits wandering about. King. Do not fear your family, beautiful Shakuntala. Father Kanva knows the holy law. He will not regret it. For many a hermit maiden who By simple, voluntary rite Dispensed with priest and witness, yet 34.

Found favour in her fatherÕs sight. (He looks about.) Ah, I have come into the open air. (He leaves Shakuntala and retraces his steps.) Shakuntala (takes a step, then turns with an eager gesture). O King, I cannot do as you would have me. You hardly know me after this short talk. But oh, do not forget me. King. When evening comes, the shadow of the tree Is cast far forward, yet does not depart; Even so, belov•d, wheresoeÕer you be, The thought of you can never leave my heart. Shakuntala (takes a few steps. To herself). Oh, oh! When I hear him speak so, my feet will not move away. I will hide in this amaranth hedge and see how long his love lasts. (She hides and waits.) King. Oh, my belov•d, my love for you is my whole life, yet you leave me and go away without a thought. Your body, soft as siris-flowers, Engages passionÕs utmost powers; How comes it that your heart is hard As stalks that siris-blossoms guard? Shakuntala. When I hear this, I have no power to go. King. What have I to do here, where she is not? (He gazes on the ground.) Ah, I cannot go. The perfumed lotus-chain That once was worn by her Fetters and keeps my heart A hopeless prisoner. (He lifts it reverently.) Shakuntala (looking at her arm). Why, I was so weak and ill that when the lotus-bracelet fell off, I did not even notice it. King (laying the lotus-bracelet on his heart). Ah! Once, dear, on your sweet arm it lay, And on my heart shall ever stay; Though you disdain to give me joy, I find it in a lifeless toy. Shakuntala. I cannot hold back after that. I will use the bracelet as an excuse for my coming. (She approaches.) 35.

King (seeing her. Joyfully). The queen of my life! As soon as I complained, fate proved kind to me. No sooner did the thirsty bird With parching throat complain, Than forming clouds in heaven stirred And sent the streaming rain. Shakuntala (standing before the king). When I was going away, sir, I remembered that this lotus-bracelet had fallen from my arm, and I have come back for it. My heart seemed to tell me that you had taken it. Please give it back, or you will betray me, and yourself too, to the hermits. King. I will restore it on one condition. Shakuntala. What condition? King. That I may myself place it where it belongs. Shakuntala (to herself). What can I do? (She approaches.) King. Let us sit on this stone bench. (They walk to the bench and sit down.) King (taking ShakuntalaÕs hand). Ah! When ShivaÕs anger burned the tree Of love in quenchless fire, Did heavenly fate preserve a shoot To deck my heartÕs desire? Shakuntala (feeling his touch). Hasten, my dear, hasten. King (joyfully to himself). Now I am content. She speaks as a wife to her husband. (Aloud.) Beautiful Shakuntala, the clasp of the bracelet is not very firm. May I fasten it in another way? Shakuntala (smiling). If you like. King (artfully delaying before he fastens it). See, my beautiful girl! The lotus-chain is dazzling white As is the slender moon at night. Perhaps it was the moon on high That joined her horns and left the sky, Believing that your lovely arm Would, more than heaven, enhance her charm. Shakuntala. I cannot see it. The pollen from the lotus over my ear has blown into my eye. King (smiling). Will you permit me to blow it away? 36.

Shakuntala. I should not like to be an object of pity. But why should I not trust you? King. Do not have such thoughts. A new servant does not transgress orders. Shakuntala. It is this exaggerated courtesy that frightens me. King (to himself). I shall not break the bonds of this sweet servitude. (He starts to raise her face to his. Shakuntala resists a little, then is passive.) King. Oh, my bewitching girl, have no fear of me. (Shakuntala darts a glance at him, then looks down. The king raises her face. Aside.) Her sweetly trembling lip With virgin invitation Provokes my soul to sip Delighted fascination. Shakuntala. You seem slow, dear, in fulfilling your promise. King. The lotus over your ear is so near your eye, and so like it, that I was confused. (He gently blows her eye.) Shakuntala. Thank you. I can see quite well now. But I am ashamed not to make any return for your kindness. King. What more could I ask? It ought to be enough for me To hover round your fragrant face; Is not the lotus-haunting bee Content with perfume and with grace? Shakuntala. But what does he do if he is not content? King. This! This! (He draws her face to his.) A voice behind the scenes. O sheldrake bride, bid your mate farewell. The night is come. Shakuntala (listening excitedly). Oh, my dear, this is Mother Gautami, come to inquire about me. Please hide among the branches. (The king conceals himself. Enter Gautami, with a bowl in her hand.) Gautami. Here is the holy water, my child. (She sees Shakuntala and helps her to rise.) So ill, and all alone here with the gods? Shakuntala. It was just a moment ago that Priyamvada and Anusuya went down to the river. Gautami (sprinkling Shakuntala with the holy water). May you live long and happy, my child. Has the fever gone down? (She touches her.) 37.

Shakuntala. There is a difference, mother. Gautami. The sun is setting. Come, let us go to the cottage. Shakuntala (weakly rising. To herself). Oh, my heart, you delayed when your desire came of itself. Now see what you have done. (She takes a step, then turns around. Aloud.) O bower that took away my pain, I bid you farewell until another blissful hour. (Exeunt Shakuntala and Gautami.) King (advancing with a sigh.) The path to happiness is strewn with obstacles. Her face, adorned with soft eye-lashes, Adorable with trembling flashes Of half-denial, in memory lingers; The sweet lips guarded by her fingers, The head that drooped upon her shoulder Why was I not a little bolder? Where shall I go now? Let me stay a moment in this bower where my belov•d lay. (He looks about.) The flower-strewn bed whereon her body tossed; The bracelet, fallen from her arm and lost; The dear love-missive, in the lotus-leaf Cut by her nails: assuage my absent grief And occupy my eyesÑI have no power, Though she is gone, to leave the reedy bower. (He reflects.) Alas! I did wrong to delay when I had found my love. So now If she will grant me but one other meeting, IÕll not delay; for happiness is fleeting; So plans my foolish, self-defeated heart; But when she comes, I play the cowardÕs part. A voice behind the scenes. O King! The flames rise heavenward from the evening altar; And round the sacrifices, blazing high, Flesh-eating demons stalk, like red cloud-masses, And cast colossal shadows on the sky. King (listens. Resolutely). Have no fear, hermits. I am here. (Exit.) 38.

ACT IV SHAKUNTALAÕS DEPARTURE SCENE I (Enter the two friends, gathering flowers.) Anusuya. Priyamvada, dear Shakuntala has been properly married by the voluntary ceremony and she has a husband worthy of her. And yet I am not quite satisfied. Priyamvada. Why not? Anusuya. The sacrifice is over and the good king was dismissed to-day by the hermits. He has gone back to the city and there he is surrounded by hundreds of court ladies. I wonder whether he will remember poor Shakuntala or not. Priyamvada. You need not be anxious about that. Such handsome men are sure to be good. But there is something else to think about. I donÕt know what Father will have to say when he comes back from his pilgrimage and hears about it. Anusuya. I believe that he will be pleased. Priyamvada. Why? Anusuya. Why not? You know he wanted to give his daughter to a lover worthy of her. If fate brings this about of itself, why shouldnÕt Father be happy? Priyamvada. I suppose you are right. (She looks at her flower-basket.) My dear, we have gathered flowers enough for the sacrifice. Anusuya. But we must make an offering to the gods that watch over ShakuntalaÕs marriage. We had better gather more. 39.

Priyamvada. Very well. (They do so.) A voice behind the scenes. Who will bid me welcome? Anusuya (listening). My dear, it sounds like a guest announcing himself. Priyamvada. Well, Shakuntala is near the cottage. (Reflecting.) All, but to-day her heart is far away. Come, we must do with the flowers we have. (They start to walk away.) The voice. Do you dare despise a guest like me? Because your heart, by loving fancies blinded, Has scorned a guest in pious life grown old, Your lover shall forget you though reminded, Or think of you as of a story told. (The two girls listen and show dejection.) Priyamvada. Oh, dear! The very thing has happened. The dear, absent-minded girl has offended some worthy man. Anusuya (looking ahead). My dear, this is no ordinary somebody. It is the great sage Durvasas, the irascible. See how he strides away! Priyamvada. Nothing burns like fire. Run, fall at his feet, bring him back, while I am getting water to wash his feet. Anusuya. I will. (Exit.) Priyamvada (stumbling). There! I stumbled in my excitement, and the flower-basket fell out of my hand. (She collects the scattered flowers. Anusuya returns.) Anusuya. My dear, he is anger incarnate. Who could appease him? But I softened him a little. Priyamvada. Even that is a good deal for him. Tell me about it. Anusuya. When he would not turn back, I fell at his feet and prayed to him. ÒHoly sir,Ó I said, Òremember her former devotion and pardon this offence. Your daughter did not recognise your great and holy power to-day.Ó Priyamvada. And thenÑ Anusuya. Then he said: ÒMy words must be fulfilled. But the curse shall be lifted when her lover sees a gem which he has given her for a token.Ó And so he vanished. 40.

Priyamvada. We can breathe again. When the good king went away, he put a ring, engraved with his own name, on ShakuntalaÕs finger to remember him by. That will save her. Anusuya. Come, we must finish the sacrifice for her. (They walk about.) Priyamvada (gazing). Just look, Anusuya! There is the dear girl, with her cheek resting on her left hand. She looks like a painted picture. She is thinking about him. How could she notice a guest when she has forgotten herself? Anusuya. Priyamvada, we two must keep this thing to ourselves. We must be careful of the dear girl. You know how delicate she is. Priyamvada. Would any one sprinkle a jasmine-vine with scalding water? (Exeunt ambo.) SCENE IIÑEarly Morning (Enter a pupil of Kanva, just risen from sleep.) Pupil. Father Kanva has returned from his pilgrimage, and has bidden me find out what time it is. I will go into the open air and see how much of the night remains. (He walks and looks about.) See! The dawn is breaking. For already The moon behind the western mount is sinking; The eastern sun is heralded by dawn; From heavenÕs twin lights, their fall and glory linking, Brave lessons of submission may be drawn. And again: Night-blooming lilies, when the moon is hidden, Have naught but memories of beauty left. Hard, hard to bear! Her lot whom heaven has bidden To live alone, of love and lover reft. And again: On jujube-trees the blushing dewdrops falter; The peacock wakes and leaves the cottage thatch; A deer is rising near the hoof-marked altar, And stretching, stands, the dayÕs new life to catch. And yet again: The moon that topped the loftiest mountain ranges, 41.

That slew the darkness in the midmost sky, Is fallen from heaven, and all her glory changes: So high to rise, so low at last to lie! Anusuya (entering hurriedly. To herself). That is just what happens to the innocent. Shakuntala has been treated shamefully by the king. Pupil. I will tell Father Kanva that the hour of morning sacrifice is come. (Exit.) Anusuya. The dawn is breaking. I am awake bright and early. But what shall I do now that I am awake? My hands refuse to attend to the ordinary morning tasks. Well, let love take its course. For the dear, pure-minded girl trusted himÑthe traitor! Perhaps it is not the good kingÕs fault. It must be the curse of Durvasas. Otherwise, how could the good king say such beautiful things, and then let all this time pass without even sending a message? (She reflects.) Yes, we must send him the ring he left as a token. But whom shall we ask to take it? The hermits are unsympathetic because they have never suffered. It seemed as if her friends were to blame and so, try as we might, we could not tell Father Kanva that Shakuntala was married to Dushyanta and was expecting a baby. Oh, what shall we do? (Enter Priyamvada.) Priyamvada. Hurry, Anusuya, hurry! We are getting Shakuntala ready for her journey. Anusuya (astonished). What do you mean, my dear? Priyamvada. Listen. I just went to Shakuntala, to ask if she had slept well. Anusuya. And thenÑ Priyamvada. I found her hiding her face for shame, and Father Kanva was embracing her and encouraging her. ÒMy child,Ó he said, ÒI bring you joy. The offering fell straight in the sacred fire, and auspicious smoke rose toward the sacrificer. My pains for you have proved like instruction given to a good student; they have brought me no regret. This very day I shall give you an escort of hermits and send you to your husband.Ó Anusuya. But, my dear, who told Father Kanva about it? Priyamvada. A voice from heaven that recited a verse when he had entered the fire-sanctuary. Anusuya (astonished). What did it say? Priyamvada. Listen. (Speaking in good Sanskrit.) 42.

Know, Brahman, that your child, Like the fire-pregnant tree, Bears kingly seed that shall be born For earthÕs prosperity. Anusuya (hugging Priyamvada). I am so glad, dear. But my joy is half sorrow when I think that Shakuntala is going to be taken away this very day, Priyamvada. We must hide our sorrow as best we can. The poor girl must be made happy to-day. Anusuya. Well, here is a coconut casket, hanging on a branch of the mango-tree. I put flower-pollen in it for this very purpose. It keeps fresh, you know. Now you wrap it in a lotus-leaf, and I will get yellow pigment and earth from a sacred spot and blades of panic grass for the happy ceremony. (Priyamvada does so. Exit Anusuya.) A voice behind the scenes. Gautami, bid the worthy Sharngarava and Sharadvata make ready to escort my daughter Shakuntala. Priyamvada (listening). Hurry, Anusuya, hurry! They are calling the hermits who are going to Hastinapura. (Enter Anusuya, with materials for the ceremony.) Anusuya. Come, dear, let us go. (They walk about.) Priyamvada (looking ahead). There is Shakuntala. She took the ceremonial bath at sunrise, and now the hermit women are giving her rice-cakes and wishing her happiness. LetÕs go to her. (They do so. Enter Shakuntala with attendants as described, and Gautami.) Shakuntala. Holy women, I salute you. Gautami. My child, may you receive the happy title Òqueen,Ó showing that your husband honours you. Hermit-women. My dear, may you become the mother of a hero. (Exeunt all but Gautami.) The two friends (approaching). Did you have a good bath, dear? Shakuntala. Good morning, girls. Sit here. The two friends (seating themselves). Now stand straight, while we go through the happy ceremony. Shakuntala. It has happened often enough, but I ought to be very grateful to-day. Shall I ever be adorned by my friends again? (She weeps.) 43.

The two friends. You ought not to weep, dear, at this happy time. (They wipe the tears away and adorn her.) Priyamvada. You are so beautiful, you ought to have the finest gems. It seems like an insult to give you these hermitage things. (Enter Harita, a hermit-youth, with ornaments.) Harita. Here are ornaments for our lady. (The women look at them in astonishment.) Gautami. Harita, my son, whence come these things? Harita. From the holy power of Father Kanva. Gautami. A creation of his mind? Harita. Not quite. Listen. Father Kanva sent us to gather blossoms from the trees for Shakuntala, and then One tree bore fruit, a silken marriage dress That shamed the moon in its white loveliness; Another gave us lac-dye for the feet; From others, fairy hands extended, sweet Like flowering twigs, as far as to the wrist, And gave us gems, to adorn her as we list. Priyamvada (looking at Shakuntala). A bee may be born in a hole in a tree, but she likes the honey of the lotus. Gautami. This gracious favour is a token of the queenly happiness which you are to enjoy in your husbandÕs palace. (Shakuntala shows embarrassment.) Harita. Father Kanva has gone to the bank of the Malini, to perform his ablutions. I will tell him of the favour shown us by the trees. (Exit.) Anusuya. My dear, we poor girls never saw such ornaments. How shall we adorn you? (She stops to think, and to look at the ornaments.) But we have seen pictures. Perhaps we can arrange them right. Shakuntala. I know how clever you are. (The two friends adorn her. Enter Kanva, returning after his ablutions.) Kanva. Shakuntala must go to-day; I miss her now at heart; I dare not speak a loving word Or choking tears will start. My eyes are dim with anxious thought; 44.