Part 6

Do leaguèd powers of sin conspire To balk religion's pure desire? Has wrong been done to beasts that roam Contented round the hermits' 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 king's 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_ GAUTAMI _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, 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 beauty's 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 another's 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?

_The two pupils_.

How could the pious duties fail While you defend the right? Or how could darkness' power prevail O'er 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: "Since 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."

_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_. "What is this insinuation?" What is your question? Surely you know the world's ways well enough.

Because the world suspects a wife Who does not share her husband's 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.

_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 coward's 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 o'erweave 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!

_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 husband--(_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 man's 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. "Let him drink first," 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: "It is true. Every one trusts his own sort. You both belong to the forest."

_King_. It is just such women, selfish, sweet, false, that entice fools. _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 female's untaught cunning may be seen In beasts, far more in women selfish-wise; The cuckoo's 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 Love's bow.

(_Aloud_.) My good girl, Dushyanta's 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? _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 Puru's line.

_Sharngarava_. Why bandy words? We have fulfilled our Father's 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 O'er woman's 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 Another's wife to shun. _Sharngarava_. O King, suppose you had forgotten your former actions in the midst of distractions. Should you now desert your wife--you 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 hermit's 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 Kanva's pupils had departed,

She tossed her arms, bemoaned her plight, Accused her crushing fate----

_King_. What then?

_Chaplain_.

Before our eyes a heavenly light In woman's form, but shining bright, Seized her and vanished straight.

(_All betray astonishment_.)

_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_.)

## 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 king's 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 didn't ask for your address or your social position.

_Chief_. Let him tell a straight story, Suchaka. Don't interrupt.

_The two policemen_. Yes, chief. Talk, man, talk.

_Fisherman_. I support my family with things you catch fish with--nets, you know, and hooks, and things.

_Chief_ (_laughing_). You have a sweet trade.

_Fisherman_. Don't say that, master.

You can't give up a lowdown trade That your ancestors began; A butcher butchers things, and yet He's 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 fish's 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 don't 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 can't just drop in on a king.

_Suchaka_. Januka, my fingers are itching (_indicating the fisherman_) to kill this cutpurse.

_Fisherman_. Don't 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! I'm 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.

_Januka_. He _is_ much obliged to the king. Just as if he had been taken from the stake and put on an elephant's back.

_Suchaka_. Chief, the reward shows that the king thought a lot of the ring. The gem must be worth something.

_Chief_. No, it wasn't 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 I've got. The first thing we want, is all the brandy we can hold. Let's 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.

_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 hasn't 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 king's 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 cuckoo's 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.

_First maid_. A few days ago, sir, we were sent to his Majesty by his brother-in-law Mitravasu to decorate the garden. That is why we have heard nothing of this affair.

_Chamberlain_. You must not do so again.

_The two maids_. But we are curious. If we girls may know about it, pray tell us, sir. Why did his Majesty forbid the spring festival? _Mishrakeshi_. Kings are fond of celebrations. There must be some good reason.

_Chamberlain_ (_to himself_). It is in everybody's mouth. Why should I not tell it? (_Aloud_.) Have you heard the gossip concerning Shakuntala's rejection?

_The two maids_. Yes, sir. The king's brother-in-law told us, up to the point where the ring was recovered.

_Chamberlain_. There is little more to tell. When his Majesty saw the ring, he remembered that he had indeed contracted a secret marriage with Shakuntala, and had rejected her under a delusion. And then he fell a prey to remorse.

He hates the things he loved; he intermits The daily audience, nor in judgment sits; Spends sleepless nights in tossing on his bed; At times, when he by courtesy is led To address a lady, speaks another name, Then stands for minutes, sunk in helpless shame.

_Mishrakeshi_. I am glad to hear it.

_Chamberlain_. His Majesty's sorrow has forbidden the festival.

_The two maids_. It is only right.

_A voice behind the scenes_. Follow me.

_Chamberlain_ (_listening_). Ah, his Majesty approaches. Go, and attend to your duties. (_Exeunt the two maids. Enter the king, wearing a dress indicative of remorse; the clown, and the portress_.)

_Chamberlain_ (_observing the king_). A beautiful figure charms in whatever state. Thus, his Majesty is pleasing even in his sorrow. For

All ornament is laid aside; he wears One golden bracelet on his wasted arm; His lip is scorched by sighs; and sleepless cares Redden his eyes. Yet all can work no harm On that magnificent beauty, wasting, but Gaining in brilliance, like a diamond cut.

_Mishrakeshi_ (_observing the king_). No wonder Shakuntala pines for him, even though he dishonoured her by his rejection of her.

_King_ (_walks about slowly, sunk in thought_).

Alas! My smitten heart, that once lay sleeping, Heard in its dreams my fawn-eyed love's laments, And wakened now, awakens but to weeping, To bitter grief, and tears of penitence.

_Mishrakeshi_. That is the poor girl's fate.

_Clown_ (_to himself_). He has got his Shakuntala-sickness again. I wish I knew how to cure him.

_Chamberlain (advancing)_. Victory to your Majesty. I have examined the garden. Your Majesty may visit its retreats.

_King_. Vetravati, tell the minister Pishuna in my name that a sleepless night prevents me from mounting the throne of judgment. He is to investigate the citizens' business and send me a memorandum.

_Portress_. Yes, your Majesty. _(Exit.)_

_King_. And you, Parvatayana, return to your post of duty.

_Chamberlain_. Yes, your Majesty. (_Exit_.)

_Clown_. You have got rid of the vermin. Now amuse yourself in this garden. It is delightful with the passing of the cold weather.

_King_ (_sighing_). My friend, the proverb makes no mistake. Misfortune finds the weak spot. See!

No sooner did the darkness lift That clouded memory's power, Than the god of love prepared his bow And shot the mango-flower.

No sooner did the ring recall My banished maiden dear, No sooner do I vainly weep For her, than spring is here.

_Clown_. Wait a minute, man. I will destroy Love's arrow with my stick. (_He raises his stick and strikes at the mango branch_.)

_King_ (_smiling_). Enough! I see your pious power. My friend, where shall I sit now to comfort my eyes with the vines? They remind me somehow of her.

_Clown_. Well, you told one of the maids, the clever painter, that you would spend this hour in the bower of spring-creepers. And you asked her to bring you there the picture of the lady Shakuntala which you painted on a tablet.

_King_. It is my only consolation. Lead the way to the bower of spring-creepers.

_Clown_. Follow me. (_They walk about_. MISHRAKESHI _follows_.) Here is the bower of spring-creepers, with its jewelled benches. Its loneliness seems to bid you a silent welcome. Let us go in and sit down. (_They do so_.)