shakuntala_ryder.pdf part 3

Love strikes me to the life: And yet I strove for pious peaceÑ I have no child, no wife. What must a father feel, when come The pangs of parting from his child at home? (He walks about.) The two friends. There, Shakuntala, we have arranged your ornaments. Now put on this beautiful silk dress. (Shakuntala rises and does so.) Gautami. My child, here is your father. The eyes with which he seems to embrace you are overflowing with tears of joy. You must greet him properly. (Shakuntala makes a shamefaced reverence.) Kanva. My child, Like Sharmishtha, YayatiÕs wife, Win favour measured by your worth; And may you bear a kingly son Like Puru, who shall rule the earth. Gautami. My child, this is not a prayer, but a benediction. Kanva. My daughter, walk from left to right about the fires in which the offering has just been thrown. (All walk about.) The holy fires around the altar kindle, And at their margins sacred grass is piled; Beneath their sacrificial odours dwindle Misfortunes. May the fires protect you, child! (Shakuntala walks about them from left to right.) Kanva. Now you may start, my daughter. (He glances about.) Where are Sharngarava and Sharadvata? (Enter the two pupils.) The two pupils. We are here, Father. Kanva. Sharngarava, my son, lead the way for your sister. Sharngarava. Follow me. (They all walk about.) Kanva. O trees of the pious grove, in which the fairies dwell. She would not drink till she had wet Your roots, a sisterÕs duty, Nor pluck your flowers; she loves you yet Far more than selfish beauty. ÕTwas festival in her pure life When budding blossoms showed; 45.

And now she leaves you as a wife Oh, speed her on her road! Sharngarava (listening to the song of koil-birds). Father, The trees are answering your prayer In cooing cuckoo-song, Bidding Shakuntala farewell, Their sister for so long. Invisible beings. May lily-dotted lakes delight your eye; May shade-trees bid the heat of noonday cease; May soft winds blow the lotus-pollen nigh; May all your path be pleasantness and peace. (All listen in astonishment.) Gautami. My child, the fairies of the pious grove bid you farewell. For they love the household. Pay reverence to the holy ones. Shakuntala (does so. Aside to Priyamvada). Priyamvada, I long to see my husband, and yet my feet will hardly move. It is hard, hard to leave the hermitage. Priyamvada. You are not the only one to feel sad at this farewell. See how the whole grove feels at parting from you. The grass drops from the feeding doe; The peahen stops her dance; Pale, trembling leaves are falling slow, The tears of clinging plants. Shakuntala (recalling something). Father, I must say good-bye to the spring-creeper, my sister among the vines. Kanva. I know your love for her. See! Here she is at your right hand. Shakuntala (approaches the vine and embraces it). Vine sister, embrace me too with your arms, these branches. I shall be far away from you after to-day. Father, you must care for her as you did for me. Kanva. My child, you found the lover who Had long been sought by me; No longer need I watch for you; IÕll give the vine a lover true, This handsome mango-tree. 46.

And now start on your journey. Shakuntala (going to the two friends). Dear girls, I leave her in your care too. The two friends. But who will care for poor us? (They shed tears.) Kanva. Anusuya! Priyamvada! Do not weep. It is you who should cheer Shakuntala. (All walk about.) Shakuntala. Father, there is the pregnant doe, wandering about near the cottage. When she becomes a happy mother, you must send some one to bring me the good news. Do not forget. Kanva. I shall not forget, my child. Shakuntala (stumbling). Oh, oh! Who is it that keeps pulling at my dress, as if to hinder me? (She turns round to see.) Kanva. It is the fawn whose lip, when torn By kusha-grass, you soothed with oil; The fawn who gladly nibbled corn Held in your hand; with loving toil You have adopted him, and he Would never leave you willingly. Shakuntala. My dear, why should you follow me when I am going away from home? Your mother died when you were born and I brought you up. Now I am leaving you, and Father Kanva will take care of you. Go back, dear! Go back! (She walks away, weeping.) Kanva. Do not weep, my child. Be brave. Look at the path before you. Be brave, and check the rising tears That dim your lovely eyes; Your feet are stumbling on the path That so uneven lies. Sharngarava. Holy Father, the Scripture declares that one should accompany a departing loved one only to the first water. Pray give us your commands on the bank of this pond, and then return. Kanva. Then let us rest in the shade of this fig-tree. (All do so.) What commands would it be fitting for me to lay on King Dushyanta? (He reflects.) Anusuya. My dear, there is not a living thing in the whole hermitage that is not grieving to-day at saying good-bye to you. Look! 47.

The sheldrake does not heed his mate Who calls behind the lotus-leaf; He drops the lily from his bill And turns on you a glance of grief. Kanva. Son Sharngarava, when you present Shakuntala to the king, give him this message from me. Remembering my religious worth, Your own high race, the love poured forth By her, forgetful of her friends, Pay her what honour custom lends To all your wives. And what fate gives Beyond, will please her relatives. Sharngarava. I will not forget your message, Father. Kanva (turning to Shakuntala). My child, I must now give you my counsel. Though I live in the forest, I have some knowledge of the world. Sharngarava. True wisdom, Father, gives insight into everything. Kanva. My child, when you have entered your husbandÕs home, Obey your elders; and be very kind To rivals; never be perversely blind And angry with your husband, even though he Should prove less faithful than a man might be; Be as courteous to servants as you may, Not puffed with pride in this your happy day: Thus does a maiden grow into a wife; But self-willed women are the curse of life. But what does Gautami say? Gautami. This is advice sufficient for a bride. (To Shakuntala.) You will not forget, my child. Kanva. Come, my daughter, embrace me and your friends. Shakuntala. Oh, Father! Must my friends turn back too? Kanva. My daughter, they too must some day be given in marriage. Therefore they may not go to court. Gautami will go with you. Shakuntala (throwing her arms about her father). I am torn from my fatherÕs breast like a vine stripped from a sandal tree on the Malabar hills. How can I live in another soil? (She weeps.) Kanva. My daughter, why distress yourself so? 48.

A noble husbandÕs honourable wife, You are to spend a busy, useful life In the worldÕs eye; and soon, as eastern skies Bring forth the sun, from you there shall arise A child, a blessing and a comfort strong You will not miss me, dearest daughter, long. Shakuntala (falling at his feet). Farewell, Father. Kanva. My daughter, may all that come to you which I desire for you. Shakuntala (going to her two friends). Come, girls! Embrace me, both of you together. The two friends (do so). Dear, if the good king should perhaps be slow to recognise you, show him the ring with his own name engraved on it. Shakuntala. Your doubts make my heart beat faster. The two friends. Do not be afraid, dear. Love is timid. Sharngarava (looking about). Father, the sun is in mid-heaven. She must hasten. Shakuntala (embracing Kanva once more). Father, when shall I see the pious grove again? Kanva. My daughter, When you have shared for many years The kingÕs thoughts with the earth, When to a son who knows no fears You shall have given birth, When, trusted to the son you love, Your royal labours cease, Come with your husband to the grove And end your days in peace. Gautami. My child, the hour of your departure is slipping by. Bid your father turn back. No, she would never do that. Pray turn back, sir. Kanva. Child, you interrupt my duties in the pious grove.. Shakuntala. Yes, Father. You will be busy in the grove. You will not miss me. But oh! I miss you. Kanva. How can you think me so indifferent? (He sighs.) My lonely sorrow will not go, For seeds you scattered here Before the cottage door, will grow; 49.

And I shall see them, dear. Go. And peace go with you. (Exit Shakuntala, with Gautami, Sharngarava, and Sharadvata.) The two friends (gazing long after her. Mournfully). Oh, oh! Shakuntala is lost among the trees. Kanva. Anusuya! Priyamvada! Your companion is gone. Choke down your grief and follow me. (They start to go back.) The two friends. Father, the grove seems empty without Shakuntala. Kanva. So love interprets. (He walks about, sunk in thought.) Ah! I have sent Shakuntala away, and now I am myself again. For A girl is held in trust, anotherÕs treasure; To arms of love my child to-day is given; And now I feel a calm and sacred pleasure; I have restored the pledge that came from heaven. (Exeunt omnes.) 50.

ACT V SHAKUNTALAÕS REJECTION (Enter a chamberlain.) Chamberlain (sighing). Alas! To what a state am I reduced! I once assumed the staff of reed For customÕs sake alone, As officer to guard at need The ladies round the throne. But years have passed away and made It serve, my tottering steps to aid. The king is within. I will tell him of the urgent business which demands his attention. (He takes a few steps.) But what is the business? (He recalls it.) Yes, I remember. Certain hermits, pupils of Kanva, desire to see his Majesty. Strange, strange! The mind of age is like a lamp Whose oil is running thin; One moment it is shining bright, Then darkness closes in. (He walks and looks about.) Here is his Majesty. He does not seekÑuntil a fatherÕs care Is shown his subjectsÑrest in solitude; As a great elephant recks not of the sun Until his herd is sheltered in the wood. In truth, I hesitate to announce the coming of KanvaÕs pupils to the king. For he has this moment risen from the throne of justice. But kings are never weary. For 51.

The sun unyokes his horses never; Blows night and day the breeze; Shesha upholds the world forever: And kings are like to these. (He walks about. Enter the king, the down, and retinue according to rank.) King (betraying the cares of office). Every one is happy on attaining his desireÑexcept a king. His difficulties increase with his power. Thus: Security slays nothing but ambition; With great possessions, troubles gather thick; Pain grows, not lessens, with a kingÕs position, As when oneÕs hand must hold the sunshadeÕs stick. Two court poets behind the scenes. Victory to your Majesty. First poet. The world you daily guard and bless, Not heeding pain or weariness; Thus is your nature made. A tree will brave the noonday, when The sun is fierce, that weary men May rest beneath its shade. Second poet. Vice bows before the royal rod; Strife ceases at your kingly nod; You are our strong defender. Friends come to all whose wealth is sure, But you, alike to rich and poor, Are friend both strong and tender. King (listening). Strange! I was wearied by the demands of my office, but this renews my spirit. Clown. Does a bull forget that he is tired when you call him the leader of the herd? King (smiling). Well, let us sit down. (They seat them selves, and the retinue arranges itself. A lute is heard behind the scenes.) Clown (listening). My friend, listen to what is going on in the music-room. Some one is playing a lute, and keeping good time. I suppose Lady Hansavati is practising. King. Be quiet. I wish to listen. 52.

Chamberlain (looks at the king). Ah, the king is occupied. I must await his leisure. (He stands aside.) A song behind the scenes. You who kissed the mango-flower, Honey-loving bee, Gave her all your passionÕs power, Ah, so tenderly! How can you be tempted so By the lily, pet? Fresher honey Õs sweet, I know; But can you forget? King. What an entrancing song! Clown. But, man, donÕt you understand what the words mean? King (smiling). I was once devoted to Queen Hansavati. And the rebuke comes from her. Friend Madhavya, tell Queen Hansavati in my name that the rebuke is a very pretty one. Clown. Yes, sir. (He rises.) But, man, you are using another fellowÕs fingers to grab a bearÕs tail-feathers with. I have about as much chance of salvation as a monk who hasnÕt forgotten his passions. King. Go. Soothe her like a gentleman. Clown. I suppose I must. (Exit.) King (to himself). Why am I filled with wistfulness on hearing such a song? I am not separated from one I love. And yet In face of sweet presentment Or harmonies of sound, Man eÕer forgets contentment, By wistful longings bound. There must be recollections Of things not seen on earth, Deep natureÕs predilections, Loves earlier than birth. (He shows the wistfulness that comes from unremembered things.) Chamberlain (approaching). Victory to your Majesty. Here are hermits who dwell in the forest at the foot of the Himalayas. They bring women with them, and they carry a message from Kanva. What is your pleasure with regard to them? 53.

King (astonished). Hermits? Accompanied by women? From Kanva? Chamberlain. Yes. King. Request my chaplain Somarata in my name to receive these hermits in the manner prescribed by Scripture, and to conduct them himself before me. I will await them in a place fit for their reception. Chamberlain. Yes, your Majesty. (Exit.) King (rising). Vetravati, conduct me to the fire-sanctuary. Portress. Follow me, your Majesty. (She walks about.) Your Majesty, here is the terrace of the fire-sanctuary. It is beautiful, for it has just been swept, and near at hand is the cow that yields the milk of sacrifice. Pray ascend it. King (ascends and stands leaning on the shoulder of an attendant.) Vetravati, with what purpose does Father Kanva send these hermits to me? Do leagu•d powers of sin conspire To balk religionÕs pure desire? Has wrong been done to beasts that roam Contented round the hermitsÕ home? Do plants no longer bud and flower, To warn me of abuse of power? These doubts and more assail my mind, But leave me puzzled, lost, and blind. Portress. How could these things be in a hermitage that rests in the fame of the kingÕs arm? No, I imagine they have come to pay homage to their king, and to congratulate him on his pious rule. (Enter the chaplain and the chamberlain, conducting the two Pupils of Kanva, with Gautmi and Shakuntala.) Chamberlain. Follow me, if you please. Sharngarava. Friend Sharadvata, The king is noble and to virtue true; None dwelling here commit the deed of shame; Yet we ascetics view the worldly crew As in a house all lapped about with flame. Sharadvata. Sharngarava, your emotion on entering the city is quite just. As for me, Free from the world and all its ways, 54.

I see them spending worldly days As clean men view men smeared with oil, As pure men, those whom passions soil, As waking men view men asleep, As free men, those in bondage deep. Chaplain. That is why men like you are great. Shakuntala (observing an evil omen). Oh, why does my right eye throb? Gautami. Heaven avert the omen. my child. May happiness wait upon you. (They walk about.) Chaplain (indicating the king). O hermits, here is he who protects those of every station and of every age. He has already risen, and awaits you. Behold him. Sharngarava. Yes, it is admirable, but not surprising. For Fruit-laden trees bend down to earth; The water-pregnant clouds hang low; Good men are not puffed up by power The unselfish are by nature so. Portress. Your Majesty, the hermits seem to be happy. They give you gracious looks. King (observing Shakuntala). Ah! Who is she, shrouded in the veil That dims her beautyÕs lustre, Among the hermits like a flower Round which the dead leaves cluster? Portress. Your Majesty, she is well worth looking at. King. Enough! I must not gaze upon anotherÕs wife. Shakuntala (laying her hand on her breast. Aside). Oh, my heart, why tremble so? Remember his constant love and be brave. Chaplain (advancing). Hail, your Majesty. The hermits have been received as Scripture enjoins. They have a message from their teacher. May you be pleased to hear it. King (respectfully). I am all attention. The two pupils (raising their right hands). Victory, O King. King (bowing low). I salute you all. The two pupils. All hail. King. Does your pious life proceed without disturbance? 55.

The two pupils. How could the pious duties fail While you defend the right? Or how could darknessÕ power prevail OÕer sunbeams shining bright? King (to himself). Indeed, my royal title is no empty one. (Aloud.) Is holy Kanva in health? Sharngarava. O King, those who have religious power can command health. He asks after your welfare and sends this message. King. What are his commands? Sharngarava. He says: ÒSince you have met this my daughter and have married her, I give you my glad consent. For You are the best of worthy men, they say; And she, I know, Good Works personified; The Creator wrought for ever and a day, In wedding such a virtuous groom and bride. She is with child. Take her and live with her in virtue.Ó Gautami. Bless you, sir. I should like to say that no one invites me to speak. King. Speak, mother. Gautami. Did she with father speak or mother? Did you engage her friends in speech? Your faith was plighted each to other; Let each be faithful now to each. Shakuntala. What will my husband say? King (listening with anxious suspicion). What is this insinuation? Shakuntala (to herself). Oh, oh! So haughty and so slanderous! Sharngarava. ÒWhat is this insinuation?Ó What is your question? Surely you know the worldÕs ways well enough. Because the world suspects a wife Who does not share her husbandÕs lot, Her kinsmen wish her to abide With him, although he love her not. King. You cannot mean that this young woman is my wife. 56.

Shakuntala (sadly to herself). Oh, my heart, you feared it, and now it has come. Sharngarava. O King, A king, and shrink when love is done, Turn cowardÕs back on truth, and flee! King. What means this dreadful accusation? Sharngarava (furiously). O drunk with power! We might have known That you were steeped in treachery. King. A stinging rebuke! Gautami (to Shakuntala). Forget your shame, my child. I will remove your veil. Then your husband will recognise you. (She does so.) King (observing Shakuntala. To himself). As my heart ponders whether I could ever Have wed this woman that has come to me In tortured loveliness, as I endeavour To bring it back to mind, then like a bee That hovers round a jasmine flower at dawn, While frosty dews of morning still oÕerweave it, And hesitates to sip ere they be gone, I cannot taste the sweet, and cannot leave it. Portress (to herself). What a virtuous king he is! Would any other man hesitate when he saw such a pearl of a woman coming of her own accord? Sharngarava. Have you nothing to say, O King? King. Hermit, I have taken thought. I cannot believe that this woman is my wife. She is plainly with child. How can I take her, confessing myself an adulterer? Shakuntala (to herself). Oh, oh, oh! He even casts doubt on our marriage. The vine of my hope climbed high, but it is broken now. Sharngarava. Not so. You scorn the sage who rendered whole His child befouled, and choked his grief, Who freely gave you what you stole And added honour to a thief! 57.

Sharadvata. Enough, Sharngarava. Shakuntala, we have said what we were sent to say. You hear his words. Answer him. Shakuntala (to herself). He loved me so. He is so changed. Why remind him? Ah, but I must clear my own character. Well, I will try. (Aloud.) My dear husbandÑ (She stops.) No, he doubts my right to call him that. Your Majesty, it was pure love that opened my poor heart to you in the hermitage. Then you were kind to me and gave me your promise. Is it right for you to speak so now, and to reject me? King (stopping his ears). Peace, peace! A stream that eats away the bank, Grows foul, and undermines the tree. So you would stain your honour, while You plunge me into misery. Shakuntala. Very well. If you have acted so because you really fear to touch another manÕs wife, I will remove your doubts with a token you gave me. King. An excellent idea! Shakuntala (touching her finger). Oh, oh! The ring is lost. (She looks sadly at Gautami.) Gautami. My child, you worshipped the holy Ganges at the spot where Indra descended. The ring must have fallen there. King. Ready wit, ready wit! Shakuntala. Fate is too strong for me there. I will tell you something else. King. Let me hear what you have to say. Shakuntala. One day, in the bower of reeds, you were holding a lotus-leaf cup full of water. King. I hear you. Shakuntala. At that moment the fawn came up, my adopted son. Then you took pity on him and coaxed him. ÒLet him drink first,Ó you said. But he did not know you, and he would not come to drink water from your hand. But he liked it afterwards, when I held the very same water. Then you smiled and said: ÒIt is true. Every one trusts his own sort. You both belong to the forest.Ó King. It is just such women, selfish, sweet, false, that entice fools. 58.

Gautami. You have no right to say that. She grew up in the pious grove. She does not know how to deceive. King. Old hermit woman, The femaleÕs untaught cunning may be seen In beasts, far more in women selfish-wise; The cuckooÕs eggs are left to hatch and rear By foster-parents, and away she flies. Shakuntala (angrily). Wretch! You judge all this by your own false heart. Would any other man do what you have done? To hide behind virtue, like a yawning well covered over with grass! King (to himself). But her anger is free from coquetry, because she has lived in the forest. See! Her glance is straight; her eyes are flashing red; Her speech is harsh, not drawlingly well-bred; Her whole lip quivers, seems to shake with cold; Her frown has straightened eyebrows arching bold. No, she saw that I was doubtful, and her anger was feigned. Thus When I refused but now Hard-heartedly, to know Of love or secret vow, Her eyes grew red; and so, Bending her arching brow, She fiercely snapped LoveÕs bow. (Aloud.) My good girl, DushyantaÕs conduct is known to the whole kingdom, but not this action. Shakuntala. Well, well. I had my way. I trusted a king, and put myself in his hands. He had a honey face and a heart of stone. (She covers her face with her dress and weeps.) Sharngarava. Thus does unbridled levity burn. Be slow to love, but yet more slow With secret mate; With those whose hearts we do not know, Love turns to hate. King. Why do you trust this girl, and accuse me of an imaginary crime? 59.

Sharngarava (disdainfully). You have learned your wisdom upside down. It would be monstrous to believe A girl who never lies; Trust those who study to deceive And think it very wise. King. Aha, my candid friend! Suppose I were to admit that I am such a man. What would happen if I deceived the girl? Sharngarava. Ruin. King. It is unthinkable that ruin should fall on PuruÕs line. Sharngarava. Why bandy words? We have fulfilled our FatherÕs bidding. We are ready to return. Leave her or take her, as you will; She is your wife; Husbands have power for good or ill OÕer womanÕs life. Gautami, lead the way. (They start to go.) Shakuntala. He has deceived me shamelessly. And will you leave me too? (She starts to follow.) Gautami (turns around and sees her). Sharngarava, my son, Shakuntala is following us, lamenting piteously. What can the poor child do with a husband base enough to reject her? Sharngarava (turns angrily). You self-willed girl! Do you dare show independence? (Shakuntala shrinks in fear.) Listen. If you deserve such scorn and blame, What will your father with your shame? But if you know your vows are pure, Obey your husband and endure. Remain. We must go. King. Hermit, why deceive this woman? Remember: Night-blossoms open to the moon, Day-blossoms to the sun; A man of honour ever strives AnotherÕs wife to shun. 60.

Sharngarava. O King, suppose you had forgotten your former actions in the midst of distractions. Should you now desert your wifeÑyou who fear to fail in virtue? King. I ask you which is the heavier sin: Not knowing whether I be mad Or falsehood be in her Shall I desert a faithful wife Or turn adulterer? Chaplain (considering). Now if this were done King. Instruct me, my teacher. Chaplain. Let the woman remain in my house until her child is born. King. Why this? Chaplain. The chief astrologers have told you that your first child was destined to be an emperor. If the son of the hermitÕs daughter is born with the imperial birthmarks, then welcome her and introduce her into the palace. Otherwise, she must return to her father. King. It is good advice, my teacher. Chaplain (rising). Follow me, my daughter. Shakuntala. O mother earth, give me a grave! (Exit weeping, with the chaplain, the hermits, and Gautami. The king, his memory clouded by the curse, ponders on Shakuntala.) Voices behind the scenes. A miracle! A miracle! King (listening). What does this mean? (Enter the chaplain.) Chaplain (in amazement). Your Majesty, a wonderful thing has happened. King. What? Chaplain. When KanvaÕs pupils had departed, She tossed her arms, bemoaned her plight, Accused her crushing fateÑ King. What then? Chaplain. Before our eyes a heavenly light In womanÕs form, but shining bright, Seized her and vanished straight. (All betray astonishment.) 61.

King. My teacher, we have already settled the matter. Why speculate in vain? Let us seek repose. Chaplain. Victory to your Majesty. (Exit.) King. Vetravati, I am bewildered. Conduct me to my apartment. Portress. Follow me, your Majesty. King (walks about. To himself). With a hermit-wife I had no part, All memories evade me; And yet my sad and stricken heart Would more than half persuade me. (Exeunt omnes.) 62.

ACT VI SEPARATION FROM SHAKUNTALA SCENE I.-In the street before the Palace (Enter the chief of police, two policemen, and a man with his hands bound behind his back.) The two policemen (striking the man). Now, pickpocket, tell us where you found this ring. It is the kingÕs ring, with letters engraved on it, and it has a magnificent great gem. Fisherman (showing fright). Be merciful, kind gentlemen. I am not guilty of such a crime. First policeman. No, I suppose the king thought you were a pious Brahman, and made you a present of it. Fisherman. Listen, please. I am a fisherman, and I live on the Ganges, at the spot where Indra came down. Second policeman. You thief, we didnÕt ask for your address or your social position. Chief. Let him tell a straight story, Suchaka. DonÕt interrupt. The two policemen. Yes, chief. Talk, man, talk. Fisherman. I support my family with things you catch fish withÑnets, you know, and hooks, and things. Chief (laughing). You have a sweet trade. Fisherman. DonÕt say that, master. You canÕt give up a lowdown trade That your ancestors began; A butcher butchers things, and yet 63.

HeÕs the tenderest-hearted man. Chief. Go on. Go on. Fisherman. Well, one day I was cutting up a carp. In its maw I see this ring with the magnificent great gem. And then I was just trying to sell it here when you kind gentlemen grabbed me. That is the only way I got it. Now kill me, or find fault with me. Chief (smelling the ring). There is no doubt about it, Januka. It has been in a fishÕs maw. It has the real perfume of raw meat. Now we have to find out how he got it. We must go to the palace. The two Policemen (to the fisherman). Move on, you cutpurse, move on. (They walk about.) Chief. Suchaka, wait here at the big gate until I come out of the palace. And donÕt get careless. The two policemen. Go in, chief. I hope the king will be nice to you. Chief. Good-bye. (Exit.) Suchaka. Januka, the chief is taking his time. Januka. You canÕt just drop in on a king. Suchaka. Januka, my fingers are itching (indicating the fisherman) to kill this cutpurse. Fisherman. DonÕt kill a man without any reason, master. Januka (looking ahead). There is the chief, with a written order from the king. (To the fisherman.) Now you will see your family, or else you will feed the crows and jackals. (Enter the chief.) Chief. Quick! Quick! (He breaks off.) Fisherman. Oh, oh! IÕm a dead man. (He shows dejection.) Chief. Release him, you. Release the fishnet fellow. It is all right, his getting the ring. Our king told me so himself. Suchaka. All right, chief. He is a dead man come back to life. (He releases the fisherman.) Fisherman (bowing low to the chief). Master, I owe you my life. (He falls at his feet.) Chief. Get up, get up! Here is a reward that the king was kind enough to give you. It is worth as much as the ring. Take it. (He hands the fisherman a bracelet.) Fisherman (joyfully taking it). Much obliged. 64.

Januka. He is much obliged to the king, just as if he had been taken from the stake and put on an elephantÕs back. Suchaka. Chief, the reward shows that the king thought a lot of the ring. The gem must be worth something. Chief. No, it wasnÕt the fine gem that pleased the king. It was this way. The two policemen. Well? Chief. I think, when the king saw it, he remembered somebody he loves. You know how dignified he is usually. But as soon as he saw it, he broke down for a moment. Suchaka. You have done the king a good turn, chief. Januka. All for the sake of this fish-killer, it seems to me. (He looks enviously at the fisherman.) Fisherman. Take half of it, masters, to pay for something to drink. Januka. Fisherman, you are the biggest and best friend IÕve got. The first thing we want, is all the brandy we can hold. LetÕs go where they keep it. (Exeunt omnes.) SCENE II.-In the Palace Gardens (Enter Mishrakeshi, flying through the air.) Mishrakeshi. I have taken my turn in waiting upon the nymphs. And now I will see what this good king is doing. Shakuntala is like a second self to me, because she is the daughter of Menaka. And it was she who asked me to do this. (She looks about.) It is the day of the spring festival. But I see no preparations for a celebration at court. I might learn the reason by my power of divination. But I must do as my friend asked me. Good! I will make myself invisible and stand near these girls who take care of the garden. I shall find out that way. (She descends to earth. Enter a maid, gazing at a mango branch, and behind her, a second.) First maid. First mango-twig, so pink, so green, First living breath of spring, You are sacrificed as soon as seen, A festival offering. 65.

Second maid. What are you chirping about to yourself, little cuckoo? First maid. Why, little bee, you know that the cuckoo goes crazy with delight when she sees the mango-blossom. Second maid (joyfully). Oh, has the spring really come? First maid. Yes, little bee. And this is the time when you too buzz about in crazy joy. Second maid. Hold me, dear, while I stand on tiptoe and offer this blossom to Love, the divine. First maid. If I do, you must give me half the reward of the offering. Second maid. That goes without saying, dear. We two are one. (She leans on her friend and takes the mango blossom.) Oh, see! The mango-blossom hasnÕt opened, but it has broken the sheath, so it is fragrant. (She brings her hands together.) I worship mighty Love. O mango-twig I give to Love As arrow for his bow, Most sovereign of his arrows five, Strike maiden-targets low. (She throws the twig. Enter the chamberlain.) Chamberlain (angrily). Stop, silly girl. The king has strictly forbidden the spring festival. Do you dare pluck the mango-blossoms? The two maids (frightened). Forgive us, sir. We did not know. Chamberlain. What! You have not heard the kingÕs command, which is obeyed even by the trees of spring and the creatures that dwell in them. See! The mango branches are in bloom, Yet pollen does not form; The cuckooÕs song sticks in his throat, Although the days are warm; The amaranth-bud is formed, and yet Its power of growth is gone; The love-god timidly puts by The arrow he has drawn. Mishrakeshi. There is no doubt of it. This good king has wonderful power. 66.