Part 3

Surely, she may become a warrior's bride; Else, why these longings in an honest mind? The motions of a blameless heart decide Of right and wrong, when reason leaves us blind.

Yet I will learn the whole truth.

_Shakuntala_ (_excitedly_). Oh, oh! A bee has left the jasmine-vine and is flying into my face. (_She shows herself annoyed by the bee_.)

_King_ (_ardently_).

As the bee about her flies, Swiftly her bewitching eyes Turn to watch his flight. She is practising to-day Coquetry and glances' play Not from love, but fright.

(_Jealously_.)

Eager bee, you lightly skim O'er the eyelid's trembling rim Toward the cheek aquiver. Gently buzzing round her cheek, Whispering in her ear, you seek Secrets to deliver.

While her hands that way and this Strike at you, you steal a kiss, Love's all, honeymaker. I know nothing but her name, Not her caste, nor whence she came-- You, my rival, take her.

_Shakuntala_. Oh, girls! Save me from this dreadful bee!

_The two friends_ (_smiling_). Who are we, that we should save you? Call upon Dushyanta. For pious groves are in the protection of the king.

_King_. A good opportunity to present myself. Have no--(_He checks himself. Aside_.) No, they would see that I am the king. I prefer to appear as a guest.

_Shakuntala_. He doesn't leave me alone! I am going to run away. (_She takes a step and looks about_.) Oh, dear! Oh, dear! He is following me. Please save me.

_King_ (_hastening forward_). Ah!

A king of Puru's mighty line Chastises shameless churls; What insolent is he who baits These artless hermit-girls?

(_The girls are a little flurried on seeing the king_.)

_Anusuya_. It is nothing very dreadful, sir. But our friend (_indicating_ SHAKUNTALA) was teased and frightened by a bee.

_King_ (_to_ SHAKUNTALA). I hope these pious days are happy ones.

(SHAKUNTALA's _eyes drop in embarrassment_.)

_Anusuya_. Yes, now that we receive such a distinguished guest.

_Priyamvada_. Welcome, sir. Go to the cottage, Shakuntala, and bring fruit. This water will do to wash the feet.

_King_. Your courteous words are enough to make me feel at home.

_Anusuya_. Then, sir, pray sit down and rest on this shady bench.

_King_. You, too, are surely wearied by your pious task. Pray be seated a moment.

_Priyamvada_ (_aside to_ SHAKUNTALA). My dear, we must be polite to our guest. Shall we sit down? (_The three girls sit_.)

_Shakuntala_ (_to herself_). Oh, why do I have such feelings when I see this man? They seem wrong in a hermitage.

_King_ (_looking at the girls_). It is delightful to see your friendship. For you are all young and beautiful.

_Priyamvada_ (_aside to_ ANUSUYA). Who is he, dear? With his mystery, and his dignity, and his courtesy? He acts like a king and a gentleman.

_Anusuya_. I am curious too. I am going to ask him. (_Aloud_.) Sir, you are so very courteous that I make bold to ask you something. What royal family do you adorn, sir? What country is grieving at your absence? Why does a gentleman so delicately bred submit to the weary journey into our pious grove?

_Shakuntala_ (_aside_). Be brave, my heart. Anusuya speaks your very thoughts.

_King_ (_aside_). Shall I tell at once who I am, or conceal it? (_He reflects_.) This will do. (_Aloud_.) I am a student of Scripture. It is my duty to see justice done in the cities of the king. And I have come to this hermitage on a tour of inspection.

_Anusuya_. Then we of the hermitage have some one to take care of us.

(SHAKUNTALA _shows embarrassment_.)

_The two friends_ (_observing the demeanour of the pair. Aside to_ SHAKUNTALA). Oh, Shakuntala! If only Father were here to-day.

_Shakuntala_. What would he do?

_The two friends_. He would make our distinguished guest happy, if it took his most precious treasure.

_Shakuntala_ (_feigning anger_). Go away! You mean something. I'll not listen to you.

_King_. I too would like to ask a question about your friend.

_The two friends_. Sir, your request is a favour to us.

_King_. Father Kanva lives a lifelong hermit. Yet you say that your friend is his daughter. How can that be?

_Anusuya_. Listen, sir. There is a majestic royal sage named Kaushika----

_King_. Ah, yes. The famous Kaushika.

_Anusuya_. Know, then, that he is the source of our friend's being. But Father Kanva is her real father, because he took care of her when she was abandoned.

_King_. You waken my curiosity with the word "abandoned." May I hear the whole story?

_Anusuya_. Listen, sir. Many years ago, that royal sage was leading a life of stern austerities, and the gods, becoming strangely jealous, sent the nymph Menaka to disturb his devotions.

_King_. Yes, the gods feel this jealousy toward the austerities of others. And then--

_Anusuya_. Then in the lovely spring-time he saw her intoxicating beauty--(_She stops in embarrassment_.)

_King_. The rest is plain. Surely, she is the daughter of the nymph.

_Anusuya_. Yes.

_King_. It is as it should be.

To beauty such as this No woman could give birth; The quivering lightning flash Is not a child of earth.

(SHAKUNTALA _hangs her head in confusion_.) _King_ (_to himself_). Ah, my wishes become hopes.

_Priyamvada_ (_looking with a smile at_ SHAKUNTALA). Sir, it seems as if you had more to say. (SHAKUNTALA _threatens her friend with her finger_.)

_King_. You are right. Your pious life interests me, and I have another question.

_Priyamvada_. Do not hesitate. We hermit people stand ready to answer all demands.

_King_. My question is this:

Does she, till marriage only, keep her vow As hermit-maid, that shames the ways of love? Or must her soft eyes ever see, as now, Soft eyes of friendly deer in peaceful grove?

_Priyamvada_. Sir, we are under bonds to lead a life of virtue. But it is her father's wish to give her to a suitable lover.

_King_ (_joyfully to himself_).

O heart, your wish is won! All doubt at last is done; The thing you feared as fire, Is the jewel of your desire.

_Shakuntala_ (_pettishly_). Anusuya, I'm going.

_Anusuya_. What for?

_Shakuntala_. I am going to tell Mother Gautami that Priyamvada is talking nonsense. (_She rises_.)

_Anusuya_. My dear, we hermit people cannot neglect to entertain a distinguished guest, and go wandering about.

(SHAKUNTALA _starts to walk away without answering_.)

_King_ (_aside_). She is going! (_He starts up as if to detain her, then checks his desires_.) A thought is as vivid as an act, to a lover.

Though nurture, conquering nature, holds Me back, it seems As had I started and returned In waking dreams.

_Priyamvada_ (_approaching_ SHAKUNTALA). You dear, peevish girl! You mustn't go.

_Shakuntala_ (_turns with a frown_). Why not?

_Priyamvada_. You owe me the watering of two trees. You can go when you have paid your debt. (_She forces her to come back_.)

_King_. It is plain that she is already wearied by watering the trees. See!

Her shoulders droop; her palms are reddened yet; Quick breaths are struggling in her bosom fair; The blossom o'er her ear hangs limply wet; One hand restrains the loose, dishevelled hair.

I therefore remit her debt. (_He gives the two friends a ring. They take it, read the name engraved on it, and look at each other_.)

_King_. Make no mistake. This is a present--from the king.

_Priyamvada_. Then, sir, you ought not to part with it. Your word is enough to remit the debt.

_Anusuya_. Well, Shakuntala, you are set free by this kind gentleman--or rather, by the king himself. Where are you going now?

_Shakuntala_ (_to herself_). I would never leave him if I could help myself.

_Priyamvada_. Why don't you go now?

_Shakuntala_. I am not _your_ servant any longer. I will go when I like.

_King_ (_looking at_ SHAKUNTALA. _To himself_). Does she feel toward me as I do toward her? At least, there is ground for hope.

Although she does not speak to me, She listens while I speak; Her eyes turn not to see my face, But nothing else they seek.

_A voice behind the scenes_. Hermits! Hermits! Prepare to defend the creatures in our pious grove. King Dushyanta is hunting in the neighbourhood.

The dust his horses' hoofs have raised, Red as the evening sky, Falls like a locust-swarm on boughs Where hanging garments dry.

_King_ (_aside_). Alas! My soldiers are disturbing the pious grove in their search for me.

_The voice behind the scenes_. Hermits! Hermits! Here is an elephant who is terrifying old men, women, and children.

One tusk is splintered by a cruel blow Against a blocking tree; his gait is slow, For countless fettering vines impede and cling; He puts the deer to flight; some evil thing He seems, that comes our peaceful life to mar, Fleeing in terror from the royal car.

(_The girls listen and rise anxiously_.)

_King_. I have offended sadly against the hermits. I must go back.

_The two friends_. Your Honour, we are frightened by this alarm of the elephant. Permit us to return to the cottage.

_Anusuya_ (_to_ SHAKUNTALA). Shakuntala dear, Mother Gautami will be anxious. We must hurry and find her.

_Shakuntala_ (_feigning lameness_). Oh, oh! I can hardly walk.

_King_. You must go very slowly. And I will take pains that the hermitage is not disturbed.

_The two friends_. Your honour, we feel as if we knew you very well. Pray pardon our shortcomings as hostesses. May we ask you to seek better entertainment from us another time?

_King_. You are too modest. I feel honoured by the mere sight of you.

_Shakuntala_. Anusuya, my foot is cut on a sharp blade of grass, and my dress is caught on an amaranth twig. Wait for me while I loosen it.

(_She casts a lingering glance at the king, and goes out with her two friends_.)

_King_ (_sighing_). They are gone. And I must go. The sight of Shakuntala has made me dread the return to the city. I will make my men camp at a distance from the pious grove. But I cannot turn my own thoughts from Shakuntala.

It is my body leaves my love, not I; My body moves away, but not my mind; For back to her my struggling fancies fly Like silken banners borne against the wind. (_Exit_.)

## ACT II

THE SECRET

(_Enter the clown_.)

_Clown_ (_sighing_). Damn! Damn! Damn! I'm tired of being friends with this sporting king. "There's a deer!" he shouts, "There's a boar!" And off he chases on a summer noon through woods where shade is few and far between. We drink hot, stinking water from the mountain streams, flavoured with leaves--nasty! At odd times we get a little tepid meat to eat. And the horses and the elephants make such a noise that I can't even be comfortable at night. Then the hunters and the bird-chasers--damn 'em--wake me up bright and early. They do make an ear-splitting rumpus when they start for the woods. But even that isn't the whole misery. There's a new pimple growing on the old boil. He left us behind and went hunting a deer. And there in a hermitage they say he found--oh, dear! oh, dear! he found a hermit-girl named Shakuntala. Since then he hasn't a thought of going back to town. I lay awake all night, thinking about it. What can I do? Well, I'll see my friend when he is dressed and beautified. (_He walks and looks about_.) Hello! Here he comes, with his bow in his hand, and his girl in his heart. He is wearing a wreath of wild flowers! I'll pretend to be all knocked up. Perhaps I can get a rest that way. (_He stands, leaning on his staff. Enter the king, as described_.)

_King_ (_to himself_).

Although my darling is not lightly won, She seemed to love me, and my hopes are bright; Though love be balked ere joy be well begun, A common longing is itself delight.

(_Smiling_.) Thus does a lover deceive himself. He judges his love's feelings by his own desires.

Her glance was loving--but 'twas not for me; Her step was slow--'twas grace, not coquetry; Her speech was short--to her detaining friend. In things like these love reads a selfish end!

_Clown_ (_standing as before_). Well, king, I can't move my hand. I can only greet you with my voice.

_King_ (_looking and smiling_). What makes you lame?

_Clown_. Good! You hit a man in the eye, and then ask him why the tears come.

_King_. I do not understand you. Speak plainly.

_Clown_. When a reed bends over like a hunchback, do you blame the reed or the river-current?

_King_. The river-current, of course.

_Clown_. And you are to blame for my troubles.

_King_. How so?

_Clown_. It's a fine thing for you to neglect your royal duties and such a sure job--to live in the woods! What's the good of talking? Here I am, a Brahman, and my joints are all shaken up by this eternal running after wild animals, so that I can't move. Please be good to me. Let us have a rest for just one day.

_King_ (_to himself_). He says this. And I too, when I remember Kanva's daughter, have little desire for the chase. For

The bow is strung, its arrow near; And yet I cannot bend That bow against the fawns who share Soft glances with their friend.

_Clown_ (_observing the king_). He means more than he says. I might as well weep in the woods.

_King_ (_smiling_). What more could I mean? I have been thinking that I ought to take my friend's advice.

_Clown_ (_cheerfully_). Long life to you, then. (_He unstiffens_.)

_King_. Wait. Hear me out.

_Clown_. Well, sir?

_King_. When you are rested, you must be my companion in another task--an easy one.

_Clown_. Crushing a few sweetmeats?

_King_. I will tell you presently.

_Clown_. Pray command my leisure.

_King_. Who stands without? (_Enter the door-keeper_.)

_Door-keeper_. I await your Majesty's commands.

_King_. Raivataka, summon the general.

_Door-keeper_. Yes, your Majesty. (_He goes out, then returns with the general_.) Follow me, sir. There is his Majesty, listening to our conversation. Draw near, sir.

_General_ (_observing the king, to himself_). Hunting is declared to be a sin, yet it brings nothing but good to the king. See!

He does not heed the cruel sting Of his recoiling, twanging string; The mid-day sun, the dripping sweat Affect him not, nor make him fret; His form, though sinewy and spare, Is most symmetrically fair; No mountain-elephant could be More filled with vital strength than he.

(_He approaches_.) Victory to your Majesty! The forest is full of deer-tracks, and beasts of prey cannot be far off. What better occupation could we have?

_King_. Bhadrasena, my enthusiasm is broken. Madhavya has been preaching against hunting.

_General_ (_aside to the clown_). Stick to it, friend Madhavya. I will humour the king a moment. (_Aloud_.) Your Majesty, he is a chattering idiot. Your Majesty may judge by his own case whether hunting is an evil. Consider:

The hunter's form grows sinewy, strong, and light; He learns, from beasts of prey, how wrath and fright Affect the mind; his skill he loves to measure With moving targets. 'Tis life's chiefest pleasure.

_Clown_ (_angrily_). Get out! Get out with your strenuous life! The king has come to his senses. But you, you son of a slave-wench, can go chasing from forest to forest, till you fall into the jaws of some old bear that is looking for a deer or a jackal.

_King_. Bhadrasena, I cannot take your advice, because I am in the vicinity of a hermitage. So for to-day

The hornèd buffalo may shake The turbid water of the lake; Shade-seeking deer may chew the cud, Boars trample swamp-grass in the mud; The bow I bend in hunting, may Enjoy a listless holiday.

_General_. Yes, your Majesty.

_King_. Send back the archers who have gone ahead. And forbid the soldiers to vex the hermitage, or even to approach it. Remember:

There lurks a hidden fire in each Religious hermit-bower; Cool sun-stones kindle if assailed By any foreign power.

_General_. Yes, your Majesty.

_Clown_. Now will you get out with your strenuous life? (_Exit general_.)

_King_ (_to his attendants_). Lay aside your hunting dress. And you, Raivataka, return to your post of duty.

_Raivataka_. Yes, your Majesty. (_Exit_.)

_Clown_. You have got rid of the vermin. Now be seated on this flat stone, over which the trees spread their canopy of shade. I can't sit down till you do.

_King_. Lead the way.

_Clown_. Follow me. (_They walk about and sit down_.)

_King_. Friend Madhavya, you do not know what vision is. You have not seen the fairest of all objects.

_Clown_. I see you, right in front of me.

_King_. Yes, every one thinks himself beautiful. But I was speaking of Shakuntala, the ornament of the hermitage.

_Clown_ (_to himself_). I mustn't add fuel to the flame. (_Aloud_.) But you can't have her because she is a hermit-girl. What is the use of seeing her?

_King_. Fool!

And is it selfish longing then, That draws our souls on high Through eyes that have forgot to wink, As the new moon climbs the sky?

Besides, Dushyanta's thoughts dwell on no forbidden object.

_Clown_. Well, tell me about her.

_King_.

Sprung from a nymph of heaven Wanton and gay, Who spurned the blessing given, Going her way;

By the stern hermit taken In her most need: So fell the blossom shaken, Flower on a weed.

_Clown_ (_laughing_). You are like a man who gets tired of good dates and longs for sour tamarind. All the pearls of the palace are yours, and you want this girl!

_King_. My friend, you have not seen her, or you could not talk so.

_Clown_. She must be charming if she surprises _you_.

_King_. Oh, my friend, she needs not many words.

She is God's vision, of pure thought Composed in His creative mind; His reveries of beauty wrought The peerless pearl of womankind. So plays my fancy when I see How great is God, how lovely she.

_Clown_. How the women must hate her!

_King_. This too is in my thought.

She seems a flower whose fragrance none has tasted, A gem uncut by workman's tool, A branch no desecrating hands have wasted, Fresh honey, beautifully cool.

No man on earth deserves to taste her beauty, Her blameless loveliness and worth, Unless he has fulfilled man's perfect duty-- And is there such a one on earth?

_Clown_. Marry her quick, then, before the poor girl falls into the hands of some oily-headed hermit.

_King_. She is dependent on her father, and he is not here.

_Clown_. But how does she feel toward you? _King_. My friend, hermit-girls are by their very nature timid. And yet

When I was near, she could not look at me; She smiled--but not to me--and half denied it; She would not show her love for modesty, Yet did not try so very hard to hide it.

_Clown_. Did you want her to climb into your lap the first time she saw you?

_King_. But when she went away with her friends, she almost showed that she loved me.

When she had hardly left my side, "I cannot walk," the maiden cried, And turned her face, and feigned to free The dress not caught upon the tree.

_Clown_. She has given you some memories to chew on. I suppose that is why you are so in love with the pious grove.

_King_. My friend, think of some pretext under which we may return to the hermitage.

_Clown_. What pretext do you need? Aren't you the king?

_King_. What of that?

_Clown_. Collect the taxes on the hermits' rice.

_King_. Fool! It is a very different tax which these hermits pay--one that outweighs heaps of gems.

The wealth we take from common men, Wastes while we cherish; These share with us such holiness As ne'er can perish.

_Voices behind the scenes_. Ah, we have found him.

_King_ (_Listening_). The voices are grave and tranquil. These must be hermits. (_Enter the door-keeper_.)

_Door-keeper_. Victory, O King. There are two hermit-youths at the gate.

_King_. Bid them enter at once.

_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, Dushyanta's bow and Indra's 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 request----

_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_.

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_. I'll 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 commands----

_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 mother's 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 don't think I am afraid of the devils?

_King_ (_smiling_). O mighty Brahman, who could suspect it?

_Clown_. But I want to travel like a prince.